UC-NRLF 


TOLANDA  OF 
CrPRUS 

GALE  rOUNG  RICE 


YOLANDA  OF  CYPRUS 


YOLANDA  OF  CYPRUS 


BY 

CALE  YOUNG  RICE 

AUTHOR  OF 

CHARLES  DI  TOCA,   A  NIGHT  IN  AVIGNON 

DAVID,   ETC.,   ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  McCLURE  COMPANY 

MCMVIII 


Copyright,  igoS,  by  The  McClure  Company 


Published,  March,  1908 


ACT  I 


300371 


CHARACTERS 

Renier  Lusignan        .      .      A    Descendant    of  the  Lusignan 

Kings  of  Cyprus 

Berengere      .      .      .      .      His  Wife 

Amaury His  Son,    Commander   of  Fama- 

gouste  under  the  Venetians 

YoLANDA The  Ward  of  Berengere,  betrothed 

to  Amaury 

Camarin A  Baron  of  Paphos,  Guest  in  the 

Lusignan  Castle 

ViTTiA  PiSANi .      .       ,      .  A   Venetian  Lady,  also  a  Guest 

MORO A  Priest 

Hassan Warden  of  the  Castle 

Halil His  Son,  a  Boy 

Tremitus A  Physician 

Olympio A  Greek  Boy,  serving  Amaury 

Alessa 

Maga 

Civa 

Mauria       .... 

Smarda Slave  to  Vittia 

Pietro In   Vittia' s  pay 

Priests,  Acolytes,  etc. 

liUK—The  Sixteenth  Century 
Place— r-4^  Island  of  Cyprus 


Berengere's  Women 


YOLANDA  OF  CYPRUS 

Scene:  A  dim  Hall,  of  blended  Gothic  and  Sara- 
cenic styles,  in  the  Lusignan  Castle,  on  the 
island  of  Cyprus  near  Famagouste.  Around 
the  walls,  above  faint  frescoes  portraying  the 
deliverance  of  Jerusalem  by  the  Crusaders, 
runs  a  frieze  inlaid  with  the  coats-of-arms  of 
former  Lusignan  kings.  On  the  left,  and  back, 
Hs  a  door  hung  with  heavy  damask,  and  in  the 
wall  opposite,  another.  Farther  down  on  the 
right  a  few  steps,  whose  railing  supports  a 
Greek  vase  with  jasmine,  lead  through  a  chapel 
to  the  sleeping  apartments.  In  the  rear,  on 
either  side,  are  guled  lattice  windows,  and  in 
the  centre  an  open  grated  door,  looking  upon 
a  loggia,  and,  across  the  garden  below,  over 
the  moonlit  sea.  Seats  are  placed  about,  and, 
forward,  a  divan  with  rich  Turkish  coverings. 


4  '  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

A  table  with  a  lighted  cross-shaped  candlestick 
is  by  the  door,  left;  and  a  lectern  with  a  book 
on  it,  to  the  front,  right.    As  the  curtain  rises, 
the  Women,  except  Civa,  lean  wearily  on  the 
divan,  and  Halil  near  is  singing  dreamily: 
Ah,  the  balm,  the  balm, 
And  ah,  the  blessing 
Of  the  deep  fall  of  night 
And  of  confessing. 
Of  the  sick  soul  made  white 
Of  all  distressing: 
Made  white!  .  .  . 
Ah,  balm  of  night 
And,  ah  the  blessing! 
[The  music  falls  and  all  seem  yielding  to 
sleep.     Suddenly  there  are  hoof-beats 
and  sounds  at  the  gates  below.    Halil 
springs  up. 
Halil.    Alessa!    Maga!    Voices  at  the  gates! 

[All  start  up. 
Some  one  is  come. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  5 

Alessa.  Boy,  Halil,  who? 

Haiti.  Up,  up! 

Perhaps  lord  Renier — No:  I  will  learn. 

[He  runs  to  curtains  and  looks. 

It  is  Olympio  !    Olympio ! 

From  Famagouste  and  lord  Amaury ! 

Mauria.  Ah ! 

And  comes  he  here? 

Halil.  As  he  were  lord  of  skies! 

To  lady  Yolanda,  by  my  lute ! 

Maga.  Where  is  she? 

Alessa.    I  do  not  know;  perhaps,  her  chamber. 

Mauria.  Stay : 

His  word  may  be  of  the  Saracens. 

Halil  (calling).  Oho! 

[He  admits   Olympic,   who   enters   insolently 
down.    All  press  round  him  gaily. 

Mauria.    Well,    what,     Olympio,     from    Fama- 
gouste ? 
What  tidings?  tell  us. 


6  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Maga.  See,  his  sword! 

Olympio.  Stand  off. 

Mauria,     The   tidings,   then,   the   tidings ! 
Olympio.  None — for  women. 

Mauria,     So-ho,  my  Cupid?    None  of  the  Sara- 
cens? 
Of  the  squadron  huddling  yesterday  for  haven 
At  Keryneia? 

Olympio.        Who  has  told  you? 
Mauria.  Who  ? 

A  hundred  galleys  westing  up  the  wind, 
Scenting  the  shore,  but  timorous  as  hounds. 
A  gale — and  twenty  down ! 
Maga.  The  rest  are  flown? 

Olympio.    Ask   Zeus,    or    ask,    to-morrow,    lord 
Amaury, 
Or,  if  he  comes,  to-night.    To  lady  Yolanda 
I'm  sent  and  not  to  tattle,  silly,  here. 

[He  starts  off,  but  is  arrested  by  laughter 
within.  It  is  Civa  who  enters,  hold- 
ing up  a  parchment. 


YOLANDA    OF   CYPRUS  7 

O !  Only  Civa. 

IStaris  again  with  Halil. 

Civa.  How,  Olyrapio ! 

Stay  you,  and  hear ! — May  never  virgin  love  him ! 
Gone  as  a  thistle!   (turns). 

Mauria.  Pouf!    (laughs). 

Alessa  (to  Civa).  Now  what  have  you? 

Civa.    Verses !    found   in   the   garden.     Verses ! 
verses ! 
On  papyrus  of  Paphos.     O,  to  read! 
But  you,  Alessa — ! 

Alessa  (takes  them).  In  the  garden? 

Civa.  By 

The  fountain  cypress,  at  the  marble  feet 
Of  chaste  Diana! 

Maga.  Where   Sir  Camarin 

And  oft  our  lady — ! 

Civa.  Maga,  will  you  prattle? 

Read  them  to  us,  Alessa,  read  them,  read. 
They  are  of  love ! 

Maga.  No,  sorrow. 


8  YOLANDA    OF    CYPRUS 

Civa.  O,  as  a  nun 

You  ever  sigh  for  sorrow ! — They  are  of  love ! 
Of  princes  bursting  through  enchanted  bounds 
To  ladies  prisoned  in  an  ogre's  keep! 
Then  of  the  bridals ! — O,  they  are  of  love ! 

Maga.    No,  Civa,  no ! — of  sorrow  !  see,  her  lips ! 
[She  points  to  Alessa,  who,  reading,  has  paled. 
See,  see ! 

Civa.        Alessa ! 

Alessa.  Maga — Civa — Ah  I 

[She  rend^  the  parchment. 

Mauria.    What  are  you  doing? 

Alessa.  They  were  writ  to  her  I 

Mauria.    To  her?  to  whom?  what  are  you  say- 
ing ?    Read ! 
Read  us  the  verses. 

Alessa.  No. 

Mauria.  Tell  then  his  name 

Who  writes  them,  and  to  whom. 

Alessa.  I  will  not. 

Mauria.  Then 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  9 

It  IS  some  guilt  you  hide ! — And  touching  her 
You  dote  on — lady  Yolanda! 

Alessa,  Shame ! 

Mauria.  Some  guilt 

Of  one,  then,  in  this  castle! — See,  her  lips 
Betray  it  is. 

Maga.    No,  Mauria!  no!  no!  (holds  her)  hush! 

IForms  appear  without. 

Mauria.    O,  loose  me. 

Maga.  There,  on  the  loggia  !     Hush,  see — 

Our  lady  and  Sir  Camarin. 

Alessa   (fearful).  It  is.  .  .  . 

They  heard  us,  Maga  ? 

Maga.  No,  but 

Mauria  (to  Alessa).  So?  that  mouse? 

Alessa.     You  know  not,  Mauria,  what  thing  you 
say. — 
He  is  troubling  her ;  be  still. 

[Stepping  out  as  Berengere  enters. 

My  lady? 


lo  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Berengere  (unwillingly).  Yes. 

It  is  time,  now,  for  your  lamps, 

And  for  your  aves  and  o'erneeded  sleep. 

But  first  I'd  know  if  yet  lord  Renier 

[Sees  Alessa's  face. 
Why  are  you  pale? 

Alessa.  I  ? 

Berengere,  So — and  strange. 

Alessa.  We  have 

But  put  away  the  distaff  and  the  needle. 

Camarin  enters. 

Berengere.    The  distaff  and  the  needle — it  may 

be. 

And  yet  you  do  not  seem 

Alessa.  My   lady —  ? 

Berengere.  Go. 

And  send  me  Hassan. 

[The  women  leave. 

Camarin — ^you  saw? 
They  were  not  as  their  wont  is. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  ii 

Camarin.  To  your  eyes, 

My  Berengere,  that  apprehension  haunts. 
They  were  as  ever.     Then  be  done  with  fear ! 

Berengere.    I  cannot. 

Camarin.  To  the  abyss  with  it.    To-night 

Is  ours — Renier  tarries  at  Famagouste — 
Is  ours  for  love  and  for  a  long  delight! 

Berengere.    Whose  end  may  be — 

Camarin.  Dawn  and  the  dewy  lark! 

And  passing  of  all  presage  from  you. 

Berengere   (sits).  No: 

For  think,  Yolanda's  look  when  by  the  cypress 
We  read  the  verses !    And  my  dream  that  I 
Should  with  a  cross — inscrutable  is  sleep ! — 
Bring  her  deep  bitterness. 

Camarin.  Dreams  are  a  brood 

Born  of  the  night  and  not  of  destiny. 
She  guesses  not  our  guilt,  and  Renier 
Clasps  to  his  breast  ambition  as  a  bride — 
Ambition  for  Amaury. 


la  YOLANDA    OF    CYPRUS 

Berengere.  None  can  say. 

He's  much  with  this  Venetian,  our  guest. 
Though  Venice  gyves  us  more  with  tyranny 
Than  would  the  Saracen. 

Camarin.  But  through  this  lady 

Of  the  Pisani,  powerful  in  Venice, 
He  hopes  to  lift  again  his  dynasty 
Up  from  decay;  and  to  restore  this  island, 
This  verdure-dream  of  the  seas,  unto  his  house. 
'Tis  clear,  my  Berengere! 

Berengere.  Then,  her  design? 

And,  the  requital  that  entices  her? 

{Rises, 

Evil  will  come  of  it,  to  us  some  evil, 
Or  to  Yolanda  and  Amaury's  love. — 
But,  there;  the  women. 

Camarin.  And  too  brief  their  stay. 

What  signal  for  to-night? 

Berengere.  Be  in  the  garden. 

Over  the  threshold  yonder  I  will  wave 
The  candle-sign,  when  all  are  passed  to  sleep. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  13 

Camarin.    And  with  the  beam  I  shall  mount  up 
to  you 
Quicker  than  ecstasy. 

Berengere.  I  am  as  a  leaf 

Before  the  wind  and  raging  of  your  love. 
Go — go. 
Camarin,  But  to  return  unto  your  breast! 

IHe  leaves  her  by  the  divan. 
[The  women  re-enter  with  silver  lighted 
lamps;  behind  them  are  Hassan  and 
the   slave    Smarda.      They   wait   for 
Berengere,  who  has  stood  silent,  to 
speak, 
Berengere  {looking  up).    Ah,  you  are  come;  I 
had  forgotten. 
'And  it  is  time  for  sleep. — Hassan,  the  gates: 
Close  themv 
Hassan.    And  chain  them,  lady? 
Berengere.  Wait  no  longer. 

Lord  Renier  will  not  come. 
Hassan,  No  word  of  him? 


14  YOLANDA   OF    CYPRUS 

Berengere.    None,     though     he     yesterday     left 
Nicosia 
With  the  priest  Moro. 
Hassan.  Lady — 

Berengere,  Wait  no  longer. 

Come,  women,  with  your  lamps  and  light  the  way. 
[The  women  go  by  the  steps.    Berengere  fol- 
lows. 
Hassan   (staring  after  her).  The  reason  of  this 
mood  in  her?  the  reason? 
Something  is  vile.    Lady  Yolanda  weeps 
In  secret;  all  for  what?    By  God!  the  Paphian? 
Or  she  of  Venice?  (sees  Smarda).    Now  slave! 

Scythian ! 
Why  do  you  linger? 

Smarda.  I  am  bidden — (snarls)  by 

My  mistress. 

Hassan.    Spa!     Thy  mistress  hath,  I  think, 
Something  of  hell  in  her  and  has  unpacked 
A  portion  in  this  castle.    Is  it  so? 
Smarda.    My  lady  is  of  Venice. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  15 

Hassan.  Strike  her,  God. 

Her  smirk  admits  it. 

Smarda.  Touch  me  not! 

Hassan.  I'll  wring 

Your  tongue  out  sudden,  if  it  now  has  lies. 
What  of  your  lady  and  lord  Renier? 

Smarda.  Off ! 

Renier  enters  behind,  with  Moro. 

Hassan.    Your  lady  and  lord  Renier,  I  say! 
What  do  they  purpose? 

Smarda.  Fool-born  !  look  around. 


nassan.    iNot 
Smarda. 

nil 

Lord  Renier,  help. 

Hassan, 

What  do  you  say? 

[Turns,  and  stares  amazed. 

fool  I  am  .  , 

,  . 

Renier. 

Where  is  my  wife? 

Hassan. 

Why,  she  .  .  . 

This  slave  stung  me  to  pry. 
Renier.  Where  is  my  wife? 


i6  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Hassan.    A  moment  since  she  left — the  women 
with  her. 
She  asked  for  your  return. 

Renter,  And  wherefore  did? 

Hassan,    You  jeer  me. 

Renier,  Answer. 

Hassan,  Have  you  not  been  gone? 

Renier.     Not— overfar.     Where    is    Yolanda? — 
Well? 
No  matter;  find  my  chamber  till  I  come. 
Of  my  arrival,  too,  no  word  to  any. 

[Hassan  goes,  confused. 
You,  Moro,  have  deferred  me;  now,  I  move. 
Whether  it  is  suspicion  eats  in  me. 
Mistrust  and  fret  and  doubt — of  whom  I  say  not, 
Or  whether  desire,  and  unsubduable. 
To  see  Amaury  sceptred — I  care  not. 

ITo   Smarda. 
Slave,  to  your  lady  who  awaits  me,  say 
I'm  here  and  now  have  chosen. 

Moro.  Do  not! 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  17 

Renier,  *  Chosen. 

[Smarda  goes. 
None  can  be  great  who  will  not  hush  his  heart 
To  hold  a  sceptre,  and  Amaury  must. 
He  is  Lusignan  and  his  lineage 
Will  drown  in  him  Yolanda's  loveliness. 

Moro.    It  will  not. 

Renter.  Then  at  least  I  shall  uncover 

What  this  Venetian  hints. 

Moro,  Sir? 

Renter.  I  must  know. 

Moro.    'Tis  of  your  v/ife? — ^Yolanda? 

Renier.  Name  them  not. 

They've  shut  me  from  their  souls. 

Moro.  My  lord,  not  so; 

But  you  repulse  them. 

Renier.                                    When  they  pity.  No, 
Something  has  gone  from  me  or  never  was 
Within  my  breast,     I  love  not — am  unlovable. 
Amaury  is  not  so. 
And  this  Venetian  Vittia  Pisani 


i8  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Moro.    Distrust  her! 

Renier.  She  has  power. 

Moro.  But  not  truth. 

And  yesterday  a  holy  relic  scorned. 

Renier.     She  loves  Amaury.    Wed  to  her  he  will 
Be  the  elected  Governor  of  Cyprus. 
The  throne,  then,  but  a  step. 

Moro.  But  all  too  great. 

And  think;  Yolanda  is  to  him  as  heaven: 
He  will  not  yield  her. 

Renier.  Then  he  must.    And  she, 

The  Venetian,  has  ways  to  it — a  secret 
To  wrench  her  from  his  arms. 

Moro.  Sir,    sir? — of   what? 

Renier.    I  know  not,  of  some  shame. 

Moro.  Shame ! 

Renier.  Why  do  you  clutch  me? 

Moro.    I — am  a  priest — and  shame 

Renier.  You  show  suspicions. 

[ViTTiA  enters  unnoted. 
Of  whom? — Of  whom,  and  what? 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  19 

Vittia  (lightly).  My  lord,  of  women. 

[Renier  starts  and  turns. 

So  does  the  Holy  Church  instil  him. 

Renier.  You 

Come  softly,  lady  of  Venice. 

Vittia.  Streets  of  sea 

In  Venice  teach  us. 

Renier.  Of  what  women,  then? 

My  wife?    Yolanda? 

Vittia.  By  the  freedom  due  us, 

What  matters  it?     In  Venice  our  lords  know 
That  beauty  has  no  master. 

Renier.  Has  no  .  .  .  That, 

That  too  has  something  hid. 

Vittia.  Suspicious  lord! 

Yet  Berengere  Lusignan  is  his  wife ! 
And  soon  Yolanda — But  for  that  I'm  here. 
You  sent  for  me. 

Renier  (sullen).    I  sent. 

Vittia.  To  say  youVe  chosen? 


20  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

And  offer  me  irrevocable  aid 
To  win  Amaury? 

Renter.  All  is  vain  in  me 

Before  the  fever  for  it. 

Vittia.  Then,  I  shall. 

It  must  be  done.     My  want  is  unafraid. 
Hourly  I  am  expecting  out  of  Venice 
Letters  of  power. 

And  what  to  you  I  pledge  is  he  shall  be 
Ruler  of  Cyprus  and  these  Mediterranean 
Blue  seas  that  rock  ever  against  its  coast. 
That  do  I  pledge  .  .  .  but  more. 

Renier.  Of  rule?  .  .  .  Then  what? 

Vittia   (going  up  to  him).    Of  shame  withheld 
— dishonor  unrevealed. 

lAs  he  recoils. 

Hush!  there  are  steps. 

IThe  slave  re-enters. 

Smarda  ? 
Smarda  {quickly).  My  lady! 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  21 

Vittia.  Speak. 

Smarda.    I've  erred;  she's  not  asleep. 

Vittia.  Who?— Ah!    Yolanda? 

Smarda.    Yes;  she  is  coming! 

Renier.  Ha ! 

Vittia.  My  lord ! 

Renier.  I'll  stay, 

Stay  and  confront  her. 
Vittia.  Ignorantly  ?    No. 

Renier.    I'll  question  her. 

Vittia.  Blindly,  and  peril  all? 

Renier.    I  will  return.    You  put  me  off,  and  off. 

IBy  the  loggia,  with  Moro,  he  goes;  the 
slave  slips  out.  Yolanda  enters, 
sadly,  her  gaze  on  the  floor.  She 
walks  slowly,  hut  becoming  conscious 
starts,  sees  Vittia,  and  turns  to  with- 
draw. 

Vittia.    Your  pardon — 

Yolanda,  I  can  serve  you? 


22  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Vittia.  If  you  seek 

The  women,  they  are  gone. 

Yolanda.  I  do  not  seek  them. 

Vittia.    Nor  me? 

Yolanda.  Nor  any. — Yet  I  would  I  might 

With  seeking  penetrate  the  labyrinth 
Of  your  intent. 

Vittia.  I  thank  you.    And  you  shall, 

To-night — if  you  have  love. 

Yolanda.  That  thread  were  vain. 

Vittia.    I  say,  if  you  have  love. 

Yolanda.  Of  guile? 

Vittia.  Of  her 

You  hold  as  mother,  and  who  is  Amaury's. 

Yolanda.    Were   it   so    simple,    all   designs   that 
ever 
Laired  in  you,  would  to  my  eyes  have  been  as  clear 
As  shallows  under  Morpha's  crystal  wave. 

Vittia.    Unproven  you  speak  so. 

Yolanda.  And  proven  would. 

Vittia.    If  so,  then — save  her. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  33 

Yolanda.    Who?    What  do  you — ?  (stops). 

Vittia  {with  irony).  Mean? 

It  is  not  clear? 

Yolanda.    Save  her? 

Vittia.  The  surety  flies 

Out  of  your  cheek  and  dead  upon  your  heart: 
Yet  you  are  innocent — oh  innocent! — 
O'er  what  abyss  she  hangs ! 

Yolanda.  O'er  no  abyss. 

Vittia.    But  to  her  lord  is  constant! 

Yolanda  (desperate).  She  is  constant. 

Vittia.    And  to  his  bed  is  true! 

Yolanda.  True. 

Vittia.  And  this  baron 

Of  Paphos — Camarin — is  but  her  friend. 
And  deeply  yours — as  oft  you  feign  to  shield  her! 

Yolanda.    He  is  no  more. 

Vittia.  Your  heart  belies  your  lips, 

Knows  better  than  believing  what  you  say. 

Yolanda.    Were,  were  he  then  .  .  .  (struggles) 
lord  Renier  knows  it  not ! 


«4  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

And  never  must.    I  have  misled  his  thought 
From  her  to  me.     The  danger  thus  may  pass. 
The  open  shame. 

Sir  Camarin  departed,  her  release 
From  the  remorse  and  fettering  will  seem 
Sweet  as  a  vista  into  fairyland. 
For  none  e'er  will  betray  her. 
Vittia.  None  ? 

Yolanda,  Your  tone  .  .  .! 

(Realising.)     The   still    insinuation!     You    would 

do  it! 
This  is  the  beast  then  of  the  labyrinth! 
And  this  your  heart  is ! 

Vittia.  No,  not   ever:  no. 

But  now,  if  you  deny  me. 

Yolanda.  Speak  as  a  woman. 

If  there  is  womanhood  in  you  to  speak. 
The  name  of  Berengere  Lusignan  must 
Go  clean  unto  the  years,  fair  and  unsullied. 
Nor  must  the  bloody  leap 
Of  death  fall  on  her  from  lord  Renier's  sword, 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  25 

A  death  too  ready  if  he  but  suspect. 

No,  she  is  holy ! 

And  holy  are  my  lips 

Remembering  that  they  may  call  her  mother! 

All  the  bright  world  I  breathe  because  of  her, 

Laughter  and  roses,  day-song  of  the  sea. 

Not  bitterness  and  loneliness  and  bHght! 

All  the  bright  world. 

Of  voices,  dear  as  waking  to  the  dead — 

Voices  of  love  and  tender  earthly  hopes — 

O,  all  the  beauty  I  was  once  forbid! 

For  O  !— 

She  lifted  me,  a  lonely  convent  weed, 

A  cloister  thing  unvisited  of  dew, 

Withering  and  untended  and  afar 

From  the  remembered  ruin  of  my  home. 

And  here  has  planted  me  in  happiness. 

Then,  for  her,  all  I  am ! 

Vittia.  Or — ^hope  to  be? 

Yolanda.    The  price,  say,  of  your  silence. — I  am 
weary. 


36  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Vittia.    And  would  be  rid  of  me. 

Yolanda.  The  price,  the  price. 

Vittia.    It  is   (low  and  ashamed)   that  you  re- 
nounce Amaury's  love. 

lA  pause. 

Yolanda.    Amaury's  love.  .  .  .  You   then  would 
rend  me  there 
Where  not  Eternity  could  heal  the  wound 
Though  all  the  River  of  God  might  be  for  balm! 
Cruelty  like  to  this  you  could  not  do? 

IWaits  a  moment. 
A  swallow  on  the  battlements  to-day 
Fell  from  the  hawk:  you  soothed  and  set  it  free. 
This,  then,  you  would  not — ! 

Vittia.  Yes. 

Yolanda.  You  cannot ! 

Vittia.  Yes. 

Yolanda  (wrung  for  a  moment  then  calm). 
I  had  forgotten,  you  are  of  Venice — Venice 
Whose  burdening  is  vast  upon  this  land. 
Good-night. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  27 

Vittia.  And  you  despise  me ! 

Yolanda.  More  I  loathe 

That  love  of  him  has  led  your  thought  so  low. 

\_Is  going. 

Vittia.     Stay !     If  you  leave  and  do  not  choose 

at  once — 

[Sounds  are  heard  at  the  gates. 

Who's    that?  .  .  .  (starts).    Amaury?  .  .  .  You've 

expected  him? 

IThe  chains  fall. 

Your  purpose,  then !    Is  it  now  to  renounce 
And  force  him  from  you  or  to  have  me  breathe 
To  Renier  Lusignan  the  one  word 
That  will  transmute  his  wrong  to  madness? 
Say  it !    For  centuries  have  stained  these  walls 
But  never  a  wife;  never — 

Enter  Berengere. 

Yolanda.  Mother?  ... 

Berengere.  Amaury 

Has  spurred  to  us,  Yolanda,  from  his  post, 


38  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

And  is  below.    But  .  .  .  what  has  befallen? 

[Looks  from  one  to  the  other. 

Yolanda.     He  comes  here,  mother? 

Berengere.    At  once. 

Yolanda  {in  dread).      Ah! 

Berengere.  Child?  .  .  . 

Vittia  (to  Yolanda).  To-night 

Must  be  the  end. 

Yolanda.  Go,  go. 

Berengere   (as  Vittia  passes  out).     What  thing 
is  this? 

Yolanda.     Mother,    I    cannot   have   him — ^here — 
Amaury ! 
Defer  him  but  a  little — till  to-morrow. 
I  cannot  see  him  now. 

Berengere.  This  is  o'erstrange. 

Yolanda.    Help   me  to   think.     Go  to  him,  go, 
and  say 
Some  woman  thing — that  I  am  ill — that  I 
Am  at  confession — penance — that — Ah,  say 
But  anything! 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  39 

Berengere.        Yolanda ! 

Yolanda.  Say.  ...  No  use. 

Too  late. 

Berengere.  His  step? 

Yolanda.  Oh,  unmistakable; 

Along  the  corridor.    Go! 

[The  curtains  are  thrown  hack. 

Amaury  {at  the  threshold).  My  Yolanda! 

[Hastens  down  and  takes  her,  passive,  in  his 
arms.    Berengere  goes. 
My,  my  Yolanda!  .  .  , 

[Kisses  her. 

To  touch  you  is  as  triumph  to  the  blood. 
Is  as  the  boon  of  battle  to  the  strong! 

Yolanda.    Amaury,  no;  release  me  and  say  why 
You  come:  The  Saracens — ? 

Amaury.  Not  of  them  now! 

[Bends  hack  her  head. 
But  of  some  tribute  incense  to  this  beauty, 
Dear  as  the  wind  wafts  from  undying  shrines 


30  YOLANDA   OF    CYPRUS 

Of  mystery  and  myrrh ! 

I'd  have  the  eloquence  of  quickened  moons 
Pouring  upon  the  midnight  magicly, 
To  say  all  I  have  yearned, 

Now,  with  your  head  pillowed  upon  my  breast! 
Slow  sullen  speech,  come  to  my  soldier  lips, 
Rough  with   command,  and  impotent  of  softness ! 
Come  to  my  lips !  or  fill  so  full  my  eyes 
That  the  unutterable  shall  seem  as  sweet 
To  my  Yolanda.    But  .  .  .  how,  how  now?  tears? 

[Lifts  her  face. 

Yolanda.    Amaury 

Amaury.    What    have    I    done?      Too    pronely 
pressed 
You  to  this  coat  of  steel? 

Yolanda.  No,  no. 

Amaury.  My   words, 

Or  silence,  then? 

Yolanda.  Amaury,  no,  but  sweet. 

Sweet  as  the  roses  of  Damascus  crusht. 
Your  silence  is !  and  sweeter  than  the  dream 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  31 

Of  April  nightingale  on  Troados, 

Or  gushing  by  the  springs  of  Chitria, 

Your  every  word  of  love!    Yet — yet — ah,  fold  me. 

Within  your  arms  oblivion  and  hold  me. 

Fast  to  your  being  press  me,  and  there  bless  me 

With  breathed  power  of  your  manhood's  might. 

Amaury !  .  .  . 

Amaury.  This  I  cannot  understand. 

Yolanda   {freeing  herself).     Nothing — a  folly — 
groundless  frailty. 

Amaury.    You've  been   again   at  some   old  tale 
of  sorrow, 

[Goes  to  the  lectern. 

Pining  along  the  pages  of  a  book — 

This,  telling  of  that  Italy  madonna 

Whose  days  were  sad — I  have  forgotten  how. 

Is  it  not  so  ? 

Yolanda.      No,  no.    The  tears  of  women 
Come  as  the  air  and  sighing  of  the  night. 
We  know  not  whence  or  why. 


39  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Amaury.  Often,  perhaps. 

I  am  not  skilled  to  tell.     But  never  these! 
They  are  of  trouble  known. 

Yolanda.  Yet  now  forget  them, 

Amaury.     It  will  not  leave  my  heart  that  some- 
how— how 
I  cannot  fathom — Camarin 

Yolanda  {lightly,  to  stop  him).     No  farther! 

Amaury.    That    Camarin    of    Paphos    is    their 
cause. — 
Tell  me 

Yolanda.    Yes,  that  I  love  thee ! 

Amaury.  '  Tell  me 

Yolanda.  Love  thee! 

As  sea  the  sky!  and  as  the  sky  the  wind! 
And  as  the  wind  the  forest!     As  the  forest — 
What  does  the  forest  love,  Amaury?    I 
Can  think  of  nothing! 

Am^iury.  Tell  me  then  you  have 

Never  a  moment  of  you  yielded  to  him. 
That  never  he  has  touched  too  long  this  hand — 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  33 

Till  evermore  he  must,  even  as  I — 

Nor  once  into  your  eyes  too  deep  has  gazed! 

You  falter?  darken? 

Yolanda.  Would  he  ne'er  had  come 

Into  these  halls !  that  it  were  beautiful, 
Holy  to  hate  him  as  the  Lost  can  hate. 

Amaury.    But  'tis  not? 

Yolanda.  God  shall  judge  him. 

Amaury.  And  not  you? 

Yolanda.    Though  he   is  weak,  there   is  within 
him — 

Amaury.  That 

Which  women  trust?  and  you? 

[Berengere   enters.     He   turns   to   her. 

Mother  ? 

Berengere.  A  runner, 

A  soldier  of  your  troop  within  the  forts 
Has  come  with  word. 

Amaury   {starting).    Mother! 

Berengere.  It  is  ill  news? 


34  YOLANDA    OF   CYPRUS 

I've  seen  that  battle-light  in  you  before. 
*Tis  of  the  Saracens?  you  ride  to-night 
Into  their  peril? 

Amaury.  Come,  the  word,  the  word! 

Berengere,    Only  this  token. 

Amaury.  The  spur?  the  spur?     (Takes  it.) 

They  then 
Are  landing! 

Yolanda.        How,  Amaury;  tell  your  meaning! 

Amaury.     The  galleys  of  the  Saracens  have  found 
Anchor  and  land  to-night  near  Keryneia. 
My  troops  are  ready  and  await  me — 
So  I  must  speed. 

Yolanda  (with  strange  terror).     I  pray  you,  do 
not  go. 

Amaury.    Yolanda ! 

Yolanda.  If  I  am  left  alone — ! 

Amaury.  Yolanda ! 

Yolanda  (sinking  to  a  seat).    1  meant  it  not — a 
breath  of  fear — forget — 
And  go. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  35 

Antaury.     I  know  you  not  to-night.     Farewell. 
[He  kisses  her  and  hurries  off.  ,  ,  .  A  silence. 

Berengere.    Yolanda 

Yolanda.  Mother,  I  will  go  to  sleep. 

[She  rises. 

Berengere.    A  change  has  come  to  you — a  dif- 
ference 
Drawn  as  a  veil  between  us. 

Yolanda.  I  am  weary. 

Berengere.    You  love  me? 

Yolanda.  As,  O  mother,  I  love  him. 

With  love  impregnable  to  every  ill. 
As  Paradise  is. 

Berengere.  Then — 

Yolanda.  I  pray,  no  more. 

To-night  I  am  flooded  with  a  deeper  tide 
Than  yet  has  flowed  into  my  life — and  through  it 
Sounds  premonition:  so  I  must  have  calm. 

{She    embraces    Berengere;    goes    slowly    up 
steps  and  off. 


36  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Berengere  {chilled).    What  fear — if  it  is  fear — 
has  so  unfixed  her? 
Is  it  suspicion?    Then  I  must  not  meet 
Him  here  to-night — or  if  to-night,  no  more. 
Her  premonition ! — and  my  dream  that  I 
Should  with  a  cross  bring  her  deep  bitterness. 
[Thinks  a  moment,  then  takes  the  cruciHx  from 
her  neck. 
Had  Renier  but  come,  perhaps  I  might  .  .  . 

[Lays  it  on  table, 
O  were  I  dead  this  sinning  would  awake  me !  .  .  . 
And  yet  I  care  not  {dully).  .  .  .  No,  I  will  forget. 
[Goes  firmly  from  door  to  door  and  looks 
out   each.     Then   lifts,   unnoting,   the 
cross-shaped  candlestick ;  and  waving  it 
at  the  loggia,  turns  holding  it  before  her. 
Soon  he  will  come  up  from  the  cool,  and  touch 
Away   my   weakness   with   mad   tenderness. 
Soon  he  will  ...  Ah! 

[Has  seen  with  terror  the  candlestick's  struc- 
ture. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  37 

The  cross!  .  .  .  My  dream!  .  .  .  Yolanda! 

ILets  it  fall. 
Mercy  of  God,  move  in  me!  .  .  .  Sacrilege! 

[Sinks  feebly  to  the  divan,  and  hows,  overcome. 
Camarin  {appearing  after  a  pause  on  the  loggia). 
My  Berengere,  a  moment,  and  I  come ! 

[Enters,  locking  the  grating  behind  him. 
Then  he  hurries  down  and  leans  to 
lift  her  face. 

Berengere.    No,  no!   nor  ever,  ever  again,   for 

ever ! 

[Shrinks. 

Go  from  me  and  behind  leave  no  farewell.  .  .  . 

Camarin.    This    is — ^illusion.      In    the    dew    I've 
waited. 
And  the  night's  song  of  you  is  in  my  brain — 
A  song  that  seems 

Berengere.  Withhold  from  words.     At  last 

Fate  is  begun !     See,  with  the  cross  it  was 


38  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

I  waved  you  hither.    Leave  me — let  me  pass 
Out  of  this  sin — and  to  repentance — after. 
Camarin.    I  cannot,  cannot! 
Berengere.  Pity,  then,  my  fear. 

This  moment  were  it  known  would  end  with  mur- 
der. 
Or  did  it  not,  dishonour  still  would  kill! 
Leave,  leave. 
Camarin.        To-morrow,  then;  but  not  to-night! 
IHe  goes  behind  and  puts  his  arms  around  her. 
Give  me  thy  being  once  again,  thy  beauty. 
For  it  I'm  mad  as  bacchanals  for  wine. 

[YoLANDA,  entering  on  the  balcony,  hears, 
and  would  retreat,   but  sees   Renier 
come  to  the  grating. 
Once  more  be  to  me  all  that  woman  may! 
Let  us  again  take  rapture  wings  and  rise 
Up  to  our  world  of  love,  guilt  would  unsphere. 
Let  us  live  over  days  that  passed  as  streams 
Limpid  by  lotus-banks  unto  the  sea. 
O'er  all  the  whispered  nights  that  we  have  clasped 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  39 

Knowing  the  heights  and  all  the  deeps  of  passion! 
But  speak,  and  we  shall  be  amid  the  stars. 

[Renier  draws  a  dagger  and  leaves  the 
grating.  With  a  low  cry  Yolanda 
staggers  down:  the  Two  rise,  fearful, 

Berengere.    Yolanda ! 

Yolanda.      Mother,   mother!  .  .  .  Ah,  his   eyes! 

Berengere.    What  brings  you  here — ^to  spy  upon 

me? 
Yolanda.  Listen !  .  .  . 

Think  not  of  me — no,  hush — but  of  the  peril 
Arisen  up  .  .  .  Your  husband ! 

Camarin.  Renier  ? 

Yolanda.    Was    at    that    grating — heard.      And 
from  its  sheath 
Drew  forth  a  dagger ! — Ah ! 
Berengere    {weakly).  What  does  she  say? 

Yolanda.    Find  calmness  now,  and  some  expedi- 
ent. 

[^She  struggles  to  think. 

Berengere.    I  cannot  die. 


40  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Yolanda.  No,  no. 

Berengere.  My  flesh  is  weak, 

Is  poor  of  courage — ^poverished  by  guilt. 
As  all  my  soul  is !     But,  Yolanda,  you — ! 

Yolanda.    Yes,  something  must  be  done — some- 
thing be  done. 

[Camarin  goes  to  the  curtains  and  returns. 

Berengere.    The  shame  ...  the  shame  .  .  .  the 
shame ! 

Yolanda.  There  yet  is  time. 

Berengere.    You  can  deliver!  you  are  innocent. 

Yolanda.    Perhaps.      Let    me    but    think. — He 
came 

Berengere.  You  see  ? 

There  is  escape?  a  way  from  it? 

Yolanda.  Perhaps. 

He  came  after  your  words  .  .  .  yes  .  .  .  could  not 

see 
Here  in  the  dimness  .  .  .  but  has  only  heard 
Sir  Camarin  .  .  . 

Berengere.  I  do  not  know! 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  4» 

Yolanda.  Go,  in  .  .  . 

Up  to  your  chamber  and  be  as  asleep. 
There  is  a  way — I  think — dim,  but  a  way. 
Go  to  your  chamber;  for  there  yet  may  be 
Prevention ! 

Berengere.    I — yes,  yes. 

Yolanda.  There  is  a  way. 

[Berengere  goes. 
Strength  now  to  walk  it!  strength  unfaltering. 

Camarin.    What  do  you  purpose? 

Yolanda.  Here  to  take  her  place. 

Here  at  the  lowest  of  her  destiny. 

Camarin.    I  do  not  understand. 

Yolanda.  But  wholly  shall. 

Clasp  me  within  your  arms;  he  must  believe 
*Tis  I  and  not  his  wife  you  have  unhallowed, 
Your  arms  about  me,  though  they  burn !  and  breathe 

me 
Thirst  of  unbounded  love  as  unto  her. 

[He  clasps  her,  and  they  wait. 
Ah,  it  is  he! 


42  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Camarin.        No. 

Yolanda.  Yes,  the  words;  at  once! 

Camarin  (hoarsely).    With  all  my  body  and  soul- 
breath  I  love  you, 

[Renier  enters  with  Moro. 
And  all  this  night  is  ours  for  ecstasy. 
Kiss  me  with  quenchless  kisses,  and  embrace 
Me  with  your  beauty,  till 

[Yolanda  with  a  cry,  as  of  fear,  looses 
herself,  pretending  to  discover  Renier, 
who  is  struck  rigid. 

Moro.  My  lord,  my  lord!  .  .  . 

It  is  Yolanda. 
Renier.  Then — 

{The  dagger  falls  from  him. 
Why,    then — Amaury ! 

[Yolanda,  realising,  stunned,  sinks  back  to  the 
divan. 

Curtain 


ACT  II 


Several  Days  Have  Elapsed 

Scene:  The  forecourt  of  the  castle,  beyond  which 
is  the  garden  and  in  the  distance  the  moun- 
tains, under  the  deep  tropical  blue  of  morning. 
On  the  right  the  wall  enclosing  the  castle 
grounds  runs  back  and  is  lost  in  the  foliage 
of  cypress,  palm,  orange;  it  is  pierced  by  an 
arched  gate  with  lifted  portcullis.  On  the  left 
rises  the  dark  front  of  the  castle,  its  arabesqued 
doorway  open.  Across  the  rear  a  low  arcaded 
screen  of  masonry,  with  an  entrance  to  the 
right,  separates  the  court  from  the  garden. 
Before  it  a  fountain,  guarded  by  a  statue  of  a 
Knight  of  St.  John,  falls  into  a  porphyry  basin. 
By  the  castle  door,  to  the  front,  and  elsewhere, 
are  stone  seats.  Hassan  is  standing  moodily 
by  the  screen,  left,  looking  out  the  portcullis. 
He  starts,  hearing  steps,  and  as  the  old  leach 
Tremitus  enters,  motions  him  silently  into  the 


46  YOLANDA    OF   CYPRUS 

castle;  then  muttering  "  the  old  hlood-letter" 
stands    as    before,    while    Civa,    Maga,    and 
Mauria  are  heard  in  the  garden,   and  enter 
gaily  hearing  water-jars  to  the  fountain.    Civa 
sees  his  look  and  breaks  into  a  twitting  laugh- 
ter.   The  other  two  join  her. 
Civa.    Look  at  him!  Maga!  Mauria!  behold! 
Was  ever  sight  so  sweet  upon  the  world? 
Is  he  not  very  Joy? 

Mauria  {critically).    Now,  is  he  not? 
With  the  price  of  vinegar  upon  his  face. 

[All  laugh. 
The  price  of  vinegar !  who'll  buy ! — Not  I ! 
Not  I !     Not  I !    Not  I ! 
Hassan.  Wench. 

Civa.  Verily ! 

And  not  a  man!  he  has  discovered  it! 
You're  not  a  man,  Mauria!  we  were  duped. 

[Mauria  slaps  her  playfully. 
But  see  him  now — a  mummy  of  the  Nile! 
Who  died  of  choler! 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  47 

Mauria.  Then,  a  care,  he'll  bite. 

He's  been  in  the  grave  a  long  while  and  he's  hungry. 
A  barley-loaf,  quick,  Maga ! 

Civa.  To  appease  him ! 

But  s-sh !  beware !  there's  something  of  import. 

IThey  stop  in  mock  awe  before  him. 

What  does  he  think  of? 

Mauria,  Sphinxes  and  the  spheres. 

Civa.    Or  little  ants  and  gnats  that  buzz  about 
him. 

Mauria.    And  how  to  make  them  smart  for  sauci- 
ness. 

Civa.    Or  of  Alessa! 

Maga.  No,  no,  Civa !  come ; 

Enough  of  teasing. 

Civa.  Of  Alessa ! 

Maga,  No. 

Your  pitcher,  come.    He's  troubled  by  the  tale 

Of  lady  Yolanda 

And  waits  for  lord  Amaury  from  the  battle. 


48  YOLANDA    OF    CYPRUS 

Civa.    The — !  heigh  !  heigh-o  !  awaits  !  la,  la !  he 
does! 

[Hassan  starts  at  her  tone. 

For  lord  Amaury!  does  he  so  indeed? 
Hassan.    What  do  you  know?    Be  silent. 
Civa.  Ho ! 

Hassan.  Itch !  would 

You  have  lady  Yolanda  hear?     She  comes 
Now,  as  she  has  this  morning  thrice,  to  ask. 

[Yolanda    appears    on    the    threshold    with 
Alessa. 
Lord  Renier  .  .  .  remember,  if  she  learns! 

[Civa  ^outs  him,  but  goes  to  the  fountain. 
The  others  follow.  Ml  their  jars,  and, 
singing,  return  to  the  garden.  Yo- 
landa then  crosses  to  Hassan,  who 
waits  evasive, 

Yolanda.    My  want  is  still  the  same — words  are 

imneeded. 
Hassan.    To  know  of  lord  Amaury? 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  49 

Yolanda.  Lord  Amaury — 
He  has  not  yet  returned? 

Hassan  {loathly).  I  have  not  seen  him. 
Yolanda,    Nor  heard? 

Hassan.  Nothing. 

Yolanda.  I  cannot  understand. 

{Goes  to  the  gate,  troubled. 

Hassan  (low).    Liar  that  I  am  to  say  it! 
Yolanda.  I  cannot — cannot  I 

IReturns. 

The  Saracens  we  know  were  routed  to 
Their   vessels — all    the    Allah-crying   horde. 

And  lord  Amaury — said  the  courier  not? 

Rode  in  the  battle  as  a  seraph  might 
To  the  Holy  Sepulchre's  deliverance. 
And  yet  no  word  from  him. 
Hassan.  Perhaps — with  reason. 

IShe  looks  at  him  quickly — he  flushes. 

With  reason!  .  .  .  knowing,  lady,  what,  here,  now. 


5©  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Is  rumoured  of  a  baron 

And  lady  Yolanda !  .  .  .  Pardon! 

Yolanda  (slowly).  Of  a  baron 

And  lady  Yolanda. 

Hassan.  Yes:  it  is  the  women 

Who  with  their  ears  ever  at  secrecy 
Rumour  it.     But,  lady,  it  is  a  lie? 
This  Camarin,  this  prinker, 

Whose  purse  is  daily  loose  to  us.  ...  I  curse  him ! 
His  father  .  .  .  Well,  my  mother's  ten  years  dead. 
Stained,  as  you  know — 
And  flower-lips  breathe  innocent  above  her. 
But  I'll  avenge  her  doom. 

Yolanda.  On — whom  ? 

Hassan  (points  castlewards) .  On  him  I 

So  you,  who  do  not  hush  this  tale  of  you, 
Though  it  is  truthless — hear: 
I  have  a  stab  for  Camarin  of  Paphos 
Whenever  he  has  lived — but  say  ! — too  long. 

Yolanda    (who    has   listened    rigidly.     After    a 
pause). 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  51 

Come  here  .  .  .  look  in  my  eyes,  and— deeper  .  .  . 

Shame ! 

[Quells  him. 

Pity  alone  we  owe  to  sin  not  blame. 

And  they  who  love  may  stray,  it  seems,  beyond 

All  justice  of  our  judging. — 

Is  evil  mad  enchantment  come  upon 

The  portals  of  this  castle? 

Hassan.  I  would  serve  you. 

Yolanda.    With  murder?  no.     But  if  you  would 
indeed, 
As  oft  you  have 

Hassan,  Lady,  I  will. 

Yolanda,  Then  watch 

The  Venetian,  and  when  Amaury  comes 
Find  me  at  once.     What  sound  was  that?  ...  A 

bugle  ? 
It  is!  it  is!  Alessa!   (Overjoyed.)     Do  you  hear? 
His  troop!    Amaury's!     O  the  silver  chime! 
Again  I  breathe,  I  breathe! 
My  heart  as  a  bird  of  May ! 


52  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Amaury!  .  .  .  Come!  we'll  go  to  him!  we'll  go! 
Before  any  within  Lusignan — ! 

Alessa.  Lady ! 

Yolanda.    At  once !  it  rings  again !  again !  we'll 
go! 

Alessa.    And  tell  him? 

Yolanda.  Warn !    Warn  him  a  fever's  here 

That  he  must  fend  his  ear  from.    'Twill  suffice. 
And  I  again  shall  see  him,  hear  him  speak, 
Hang  on  his  battle-story  blessedly ! 
And  you,   Hassan.   .   .  .   But  why  do  you   stand 

stone  ? 
You  know  something.  .  .  .  He's  dead ! 

Hassan.  No,  lady,  no. 

Yolanda.    Not?  ah!  .  .  .  then  what?    'Twas  not 
his  trumpet? 

Hassan  (after  a  struggle).  No. 

And  I  will  lie  to  you  no  longer; 
Though  for  obedience  it  be  or  life; 
And  at  lord  Renier's  command.  ...  It  is 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  53 

Not  true  that  lord  Amaury  from  the  battle 
Has  not  returned. 

Yolanda.  But  he — you  mean — is  here? 

[Stands  motionless. 

Hassan.    He      came  ...  on      yesterday  ...  at 
dusk.     Was  led 
Up  to  his  chamber  .  .  . 
So  much  lord  Renier  who  slipt  him  in 
Revealed,  that  I  might  guile  you. 

Alessa  (sharply).  And  you  have? 

Hassan.    Yes. 

Alessa,  Though  you  boasted  love  to  me? 

Hassan.  Now,  woman! 

Alessa.    Lady,  I  would  have  wed  him — wed  this 

toad! 

[Stingingly. 

Who'd  kill  the  Paphian,  too ! 

Hassan.  Yes ! 

Alessa.  Worm!  with  dust? 

Heeling  away  from  him  ? 


54  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Yolanda.  Be  still,  be  still. 

[Alessa  turns  to  her. 
These  words  can  wait  on  what  may  yet  be  helped. 
This  may  undo  me!     First  of  all  I  should 
Have  seen  Amaury!    Now ! 

Hassan.  The  Venetian! 

[They  start.    Vittia  enters  from  the  castle. 
Lady,  I  will  go  in. 

Alessa.  And  I;  to  wait. 

[They  go. 

Yolanda  (suddenly).    But  I  to  see  Amaury. 

Vittia.  What?  (stops). 

Yolanda.  To  see, 

Vittia  Visani,  who  withholds  Amaury — 
Who  came  last  night  at  dusk,  as  well  you  know. 

IThey  face,  opposed. 
What  have  you  told  him? 

Vittia.  Ha ! 

Yolanda.  Insolence,  false 

And  feigning!     But  no  matter;  lies  are  brief, 
ril  go  myself  to  him. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  55 

Vittia.  To  be  repelled? 

Berengere  enters* 
Yolanda.    If  he  could  trust  you — but  he  could 

not. 
Vittia.  Knowing 

A  Paphian  ere  this  has  fondled  two? 

Yolanda.    You    hear,    mother?       (To     Vittia). 

Out  of  my  way  at  once. 
Berengere.    Stay,  stay!     She  has  not  told  him! 
nothing!  .  .  .  Yes, 
I  too  have  been  aware  and  kept  you  blind. 
For  he  was  overworn,  and  still  is,  much. 

But  now  his  wound 

Yolanda.  Wound!  he  is  wounded? 

Berengere.  He  sleeps. 

Yolanda.    And  is  in  danger — ^jeopardy? 
Berengere.  In  none; 

If  the  leech  Tremitus  has  any  skill; 
And  that  you  know. 

Yolanda.  I  thank  .  .  .  Madonna  .  .  .  thee! 

[Vittia  laughs  and  goes. 


56  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

But  you,  mother,  are  come  at  last  to  say 
Your  promises,  broken  two  days,  are  kept? 
You've  spoken?  won  lord  Renier  to  wisdom? 
Pled  him  to  silence  which  alone  can  save  us? 
Dear  mother ? 

Berengere.  Do  not  call  me  so  again. 

[Turns  away. 
I  have  not — and  I  will  not, 

Yolanda.  Oh ! 

Berengere.  I   cannot.    .    .    . 

Yolanda.     But  can  leave  me  so  laden  here  within 
This  gulfs  dishonour?    Never!  ...  So  return 
And  pledge  him  but  to  wait ! 
For  this  Venetian  has  now,  I  bode, 
Something  of  evil  more. 

When  once  Amaury  hears  all  that  has  passed. 
Return ! 

Berengere.    I  cannot. 

Yolanda  (stung).  Then  hear,  hear  me!     I 

Too  am  a  woman,  and  the  woman  wants, 
The  beauty  and  ache  and  dream  and  glow  and  urge 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  57 

Of  an  unreckoned  love  are  mine  as  yours. 
I  will  not  lose  Amaury;  but  will  tell  him 
Myself  the  truth. 

Berengere.  Then — Fll  not  stay  for  death, 

And  wait  for  shame.     But  now  with  Camarin 
Will  go  from  here. 

Yolanda.  Mother ! 

Berengere.  To  some  retreat 

Away! 

Yolanda,    Where    still    pursuit    would    follow ! 
even, 
I  fear,  Amaury's? — 
And  overtake  you  though  it  were  as  far 
As  the  sea  foams,  or  past  the  sandy  void 
Of  stricken  Africa?    It  would  be  vain. 

Vain,  and  I  cannot  have  you.    No,  but  listen 

[Breaks  off  seeing  Renier,  on  the  castle 
threshold.  His  look  is  on  her,  but  he 
comes  down  addressing  Berengere. 

Renier.     She  troubles  you  too  much. 

Berengere.  My  lord? 


58  YOLANDA    OF    CYPRUS 

Renter.  Too  much. 

You  cherish  her  and  reap  unchastity 
For  gratitude — unchastity  against 
Our  very  son  who  was  betrothed  to  her. 
Yet  see  her  shameless. 

Berengere  {dully).    No;  I  think  you  wrong  her. 
[YoLANDA  moves  apart. 

Renter.    Nobly  you  pity !    But  it  will  not  veil  her. 
Rather  the  convent  and  the  crucifix. 
Matin  and  Vesper  in  a  round  remote. 
And  senseless  beads,  for  such. — But  what  more  now 
Is  she  demanding? 

Berengere.  Little. 

Renier.  Not  the  means 

Still  to  deceive  Amaury? 

Berengere.  Renier  ...  no. 

[Speaks  loathly. 
But  I  have  a  request  that,  if  you  grant. 
Will  lead  peace  back  to  us  .  .  .  and  from  us  draw 
This  fang  of  fate. 

Renier.  Ah. 


YOLANDA   OF    CYPRUS  59 

Berengere.  Yes. 

Renter  (slowly).  And  we  might  be 

As  those  that  wedded  love  ? 

Berengere,  Perhaps. 

Renier,  That-— love ! 

lA  pause. 
Then  it  shall  be,  at  once  .  .  .  But  no,  I  first 
Have  a  confession. 

Berengere,  You  ? 

Renier,  A  pang! — For  days 

[Takes  her  hand. 
Before  I  found  Yolanda  on  the  breast 

Of  Camarin  of  Paphos 

I  suffered  in  the  furnace  of  suspicion 
The  fume  and  suffocation  of  the  thought 
That  you  were  the  guilty  one — you  my  own  wife. 
[She  recoils  to  Yolanda,  who  comes  up. 
I  did;  but  rue,  rue  it!  .  .  . 

.  .  .  Yet — it  is  just 
That  you  recoil  even  as  now  you  do 
From  stain  upon  your  wedded  constancy.  .  .  . 


6o  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

And  time  that  is  e'er-pitiful  must  pass 
Over  it — 

Before  there  is  forgiveness.    And  perhaps 
Then  I  shall  win  you  as  I  never  have. — 
Now  the  request. 

Berengere.  That  now  ...  I  cannot  plead. 

{^Sees  YoLANDA  harden.    Is  impelled. 
And  yet  I  must  ...  It  is  that,  till  I  bid, 
Amaury  may  not  know  of  this  .  .  .  not  know 

This  trouble  fallen  from  a  night  of  evil 

Pitiless  on  us  as  a  meteor's  ash. 

Renier.     Not  of  it?  he?  not  know? 

Berengere.  Trust  to  me. 

Renier.  How ! 

And  to  this  wanton's  perfidy  to  bind 
Him  witless  to  her — with  a  charm  perhaps — 
Or,  past  releasing,  with  a  philtre?     She 
Whom  now  he  holds  pure  as  a  spirit  sped 
From  immortality,  or  the  fair  fields 
Of  the  sun,  to  be  his  bride? 

Yolanda.  Sir,  no !  .  .  .  She  means 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  6i 

Not   I  shall  wed  him!    (Winningly.)      Only   that 

you  spare 
To  separate  us  with  this  horror;  that 
You  trust  me  to  dispel  his  love,  to  pall 
And  chill  his  passion  from  me.    For  I  crave 
Only  one  thing — innocence  in  his  sight. 
Believe ! — believe ! 

Renter,  I  will — that  you  are  mad. 

Yet  madder  I,  if  to  this  murk  my  brain 
Were  blind. 

Yolanda.       As  it  will  be !  in  deadlier  dark, 
If  you  attend  me  not! 
And  may  have  destiny  you  cannot  know. 
But  you  will  heed? 

For  somewhere  in  you  there  is  tenderness. 
Once  when  you  chafed  in  fever  and  I  bore 
White  orange  blossoms  dewy  to  your  pillow 
You  touched  my  hand  gently,  as  might  a  father. 

ICaresses  his. 
Once  on  the  tower  when  alone  at  dusk 
I  sang — I  know  not  why — of  lost  delights. 


62  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Of  vanished  roses  that  are  e'er  recalling 
May  to  the  world,  you  came  and  suddenly 
Lifted  my  brow  up  silent  to  your  kiss. 
Ah,  you  remember;  you  will  hear  me? 

Renier,  No ! 

Though  you  are  cunning. — Thus  you  wove  the  mesh 
About  Amaury — till  he  could  not  move 
Beyond  you. 

Yolanda,        For  his  sake  I  ask  it. 

Renter.  For 

No  sake  but  to  o'ersway  him  with  your  eyes 
In  secret,  thus,  and  with 
Your  hair  that  he  beheves  an  aureole 
Brought  with  you  out  of  Heaven. 

Berengere,  Again — ^wrong. 

Renter.    So   deem    you   and,    my    Berengere,    I 
grieve. 
Desiring  much  your  peace. 

Berengere.  It  grieves  you  not. 

Renter.    Then  not!  and  half  I  fear — ^you  hear? 
— ^it  should  not. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  63 

There's  midnight  in  this  thing  and  mystery. 
Does  she  not  love — Camarin? 

Yolanda  (trembling).  Say  no  more. 

Be  all — all  as  you  will. 

Renter.  That  brings  you  low: 

But  brings  to  me  no  light — only  again 
The  stumbling  in  suspicion. 

Yolanda.  It  should  not. 

Renter   (with  a  sudden  gleam). 
To-morrow  then,  unless  Amaury  runs 
Fitting  revenge  through  Camarin  of  Paphos, 
Your  lover,  you  shall  clasp  him  openly 
Before  all  of  Lusignan. 

Yolanda.  No;  no,  no! 

The    thought    of    it    is    soil !  .  .  .  Rather  ...  his 
death! 

Renier.    What,  what? 

Berengere.     My  lord,  she  knows  not  what  she 
says. 
The  unaccustomed  wind  of  these  ill  hours 
Has  torn  tranquilHty  from  her  and  reason. 


64  YOLANDA    OF   CYPRUS 

Yolanda    (realising).    Yes,    as    she    says — ^tran- 
quillity and  reason. 

IStrains  to  smile. 

These  hours  of  ill ! 
Renier,  I'll  send  her  Camarin. 

{^Goes,  looking  steadfastly  hack. 

Yolanda  {turning,  then,  to  Berengere). 

His  mood  and  mien — that  tremor  in  his  throat. 
Unfaltering.     I  fear  him. 

Berengere.  Life  is  fear. 

No  step  was  ever  taken  in  the  world 
But  from  a  brink  of  danger,  or  in  flight 
From  happiness  whose  air  is  ever  sin. 
It  sickens  me. 

Yolanda,  Mother ! 

Berengere.  Nothing;  a  pain 

Here  in  my  breast. 

ISits. 

Yolanda,  And  it  is  all  through  him 

Who  as  a  guest  came  pledged  into  this  house. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  65 

Came  with  the  chivalry  and  manly  show 
Of  reverence  and  grace,  that  he  too  well 
Has  learnt  in  cunning  lands  and  used  to  lure. 

[Camarin  appears  from  garden. 

Ah,  and  he  seeks  us  now !  unwhelmed  of  it ! 
Ready  of  step,  impassive,  cold !    And  see — 

[Camarin  hows  forcedly, 

A  flawless  courtesy!  as  of  a  king! 
Can  he  not  smile  too  on  his  handiwork? 
Our  days  were  merciful  and  he  has  made 
Each  moment's  beat  a  blow  upon  the  breast. 
Honour  was  here  and  innocence  lies  now 
A  sacrifice  that  pain  cannot  consume. — 

Camarin.    Or  death. 

Yolanda.  Then  have  you  not,  unshameable! 

A  help  for  it  or  healing?  you  who  know 
So  well  the  world  and  its  unwonted  ways ! 
A  man  would  have,  a  man. 

Camarin.  And  I  am  barren. 


66  YOLANDA    OF   CYPRUS 

My  brain  an  arid  waste  under  remorse. 
Only  one  thing  it  yields — the  love  of  her 
My  love  has  made  unholy. 

Yolanda.  While  to  me 

The  shame  is  left,  and  silence — no  defence. 
When  it  is  told  Amaury,  "  See  her  you 
Blest  with  betrothal  and  the  boon  of  faith, 
Chose  as  the  planet-mate  of  your  proud  star! 
While,  in  the  battle. 

You  with  the  weal  of  Cyprus  on  your  brow 
Dared  momently  peril. 

We  found  her "...  Ah,  the  memory  is  fire ! 

I  will  not  bear  it. 

Camarin.  Then  how?  what?   .  .   .   You 

must. 

Though  for  your  suffering  I  am  pitiful. 

You  must ! 

[Takes  her  wrist. 

For  to  one  thing,  one  only  now  I'm  bent 

That  Berengere  be  saved. 

Berengere.  To-day  ...  no  more. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  67 

Camarin.     Suspicion  and  the  peril-feet  of  shame 
I  must  keep  from  her  still. 

Yolanda.  Though  driven  o'er 

My  heart  they  trample  the  lone  flower  of  hope. 

[Shaking    off    his    hand,    then,    unnaturally 
wrought  up. 

And  even  now  perhaps  Amaury  hears 
And  turns  away  in  horror ! 

Camarin,  What?     Come,  come. 

Enough  is  here  without 

Yolanda  (as  before),    I'll  go  to  him! 
Despite  of  them !  in  to  his  side  and  say 
That  I  am  innocent — as  the  first  dawn 
And  dew  of  Eden !  .  .  .  Yes ! 

Camarin,  A  frenzy !     Mere 

Folly !  you  wander ! 

Yolanda  (suddenly).    That  was  anguish?  whose? 
[Is  haunt edly  listening. 


68  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Camarin.    Amaury  still  is  many  leagues  away — 

[Hassan  appears. 
At  Keryneia!    Do  you  hear  me? 

Yolanda.  Hassan ! 

[Is  numb  as  he  hurries  down  from  the  cas- 
tle to  her.     A  pause;  then  her  voice 
falls  hoarsely. 
I  hear  you,  speak.    His  wounds  I  know.    The  rest ! 
They've  told  him? 

Hassan.  The  Venetian,  who  nursed  him 

Last  night,  pouring  his  potions — 
She  and  lord  Renier.    They  broke  his  sleep. 
He  listened  to  them  as  one  in  a  grave. 
Then  they  besought  of  him 
Some  oath  against  you,  were  they  right:  he  would 

not. 
Now  he  has  risen. 

Silent  and  pale  and  suffering;  in  leash. 
He's  coming  here. 

Camarin,  Why,  you  are  mad! 

Yolanda.  Be  still. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  69 

Camarin.    Amaury  was  not  then  delayed?   is — 
here? 

{Voices   are   heard   perturbed  within    the 
castle.     Then  Amaury,  putting  aside 
Renier   and   Tremitus,    followed    by 
ViTTiA  and  others,  enters  down. 
Amaury,    I'll  not  return  unto  my  couch  though 
twice 
These  wounds  and  all  your  wants  were  urging  it ! 
Yolanda  !  my  Yolanda ! — Never,  never  ! 

[Takes  her  to  him. 
Until  I  prove  you  that  a  word  against 
Her  that  I  hold  here  in  my  arms  is  more 
To  me  than  any  peril. 

Tremitus.  But,    sir — !  .  .  .  Aeih  ! 

My  precious  physic  wasted! 

Amaury.  Till  I  prove  it! 

For  .  .  .  my  Yolanda!  .  .  . 
You  who  are  purity  if  Mary  still 
Is  mother  of  God  and  lighteth  Paradise! 
You  in  whose  presence  I  am  purged  as  one 


70  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Bathing  a  thousand  years  in  angel  song! 

They  say,  you,  who  are  stainless  to  my  eyes 

As  is  the  sacring-bell  to  holy  ears, 

So  undefiled  even  the  perfect  lily 

Pendent  upon  your  breast  fears  to  pollute  it! 

Listen,  they  tell  me  you — A  fool,  a  fool 

Would  know  it  unbelievable  and  laugh. 

Renter.    As  now  a  fool  is  doing? 

Amaury.  O,  sir,  pardon. 

You  are  my  father,  and,  I  must  believe. 
Mean  well  this  monster  breath's  unchastity. 
As   does   this   lady    (of  Vittia)    who   has   gently 

nursed  me. 
But  you  were  tricked;  it  was  illusion  swum 
Before  your  sleep.     Therefore  my  purpose  is 
Now  to  forget  it. 

Tremitus.  Aieh !  and  to  return 

Now  to  my  drugs. 

Renter,  Stand  off! — As  dogs  forget 

The  lash  in  hunger  of  the  wonted  bone  ? 

[Laughs  angrily. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  71 

Amaury.    A  poison  so  incredible  and  dark 
You  cannot  duped  inoculate  me  with. 
Trust  in  my  veins  makes  of  it  but  more  love. 
And  to  dispel  your  minds  (goes  to  Camarin)  I'll 

clasp  his  hand 
Whom  you  have  so  accused. 

Vittia.  O  do,  my  lord! 

ISmiles  disdainfully. 

And  then  embrace  him  in  whose  arms  three  nights 
Ago  she  was  embraced. 

Yolanda  (to  her).  Can  you  so  say! 

Vittia.    Yes,  and  will  add 

Amaury.  Lady  of  Venice,  nothing! 

But  this  to  all,  I  answer! — 
There  is  my  mother,  see, 

Wounded  with  wonder  of  this  plight,  and  pity. 
Yolanda  has  dwelt  by  her 
As  the  fawn 

By  the  white  doe  on  mount  Chionodes. 
I  would  as  quick  believe  that  she  had  given 


73  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Her  holiness  up  to  contamination 
As  that  Yolanda 

Yolanda.  Amaury,  enough !  .  .  .  I  know ! 

Amaiiry.    As  quickly! 

Yolanda,  Then  .  .  .  quell  this  delirium! 

[A  pause. 
Out  of  your  thought  forever  let  it  fall. 
Hear  no  more  of  it,  ever! 
Be  deaf  to  it  as  to  a  taunt  of  doom. 
In  triple  mail  to   every   peaceless  word, 
Granite  against  even  its  memory. 
Say  that  you  will,  and  now !  .  .  . 

Renier.  So  that  you  may 

Allure  him  yet  to  wed  you? 

Amaury.  Sir ! 

Renier,  She  would. 

Yolanda.    No,   no!     But   let  him.  .  .  .  Then   I 
will  go  far 
Away  from  here  to  any  alien  air, 
To  opiate  India,  a  lost  sea-isle ! 
To  the  last  peak  of  arid  Caucasus. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  73 

Renter.    With  Camarin  of  Paphos? 

Yolanda.  With  whoever 

Your    peace    and    this    compelHng    pain.  .  .  .  Ah 
no! 

Renter.    With  him,  with  him,  I  say?  .  .  . 

Amaury.  You  drive  and  drain  her. 

To  me  her  words  shall  be — me  and  no  other. 
So  my  Yolanda  now  dissolve  the  cling 
Of  this  invisible  but  heavy  hydra; 
I've  striven  with  it  till  no  more  I  can. 
If  any  tare  has  been  unseemly  sown 
Upon  the  April  vision  of  our  love. 
Say  it  at  once  that  I  may  rend  and  fling*  it 
Away  from  us.     Say  it ! 

Renier.                              Vainly  implored. — 
Yet  ask  her  this,  If  she  three  nights  ago 

'Amaury.    I  will  not  so  insult  her. 

Tremitus.  Aieh 

Renier.  Insult? 

She  knows  what  I  would  bid  and  does  she  hurl 
Her  soul  in  any  disavowal? 


74  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Amaury.  I 

Will  speak  to  her  alone.    Go,  all  of  you. 
There  to  the  fountain. 

Yolanda.  Yes,  Amaury,  then 

One  searching  of  my  face  shall  free  your  fear. 
Alone,  alone. 

Renter.  Still  to  befool  him! 

Yolanda  (  warningly  ) .  Choose ! 

I  cannot  suffer  more  of  this. 

Amaury,  Nor  I 

To  breathe  ever  the  burning  of  this  mist 
Of  anguish  and  insatiate  accusal. — 
This  wound  upon  my  throat,  fever  it  not 
With  longer  fire  of  doubt,  Yolanda. 

Yolanda.  Ah ! 

Berengere.    I   am   not   well.     I   will   go   to   my 

chamber. 

\^She  passes  into  the  castle. 

Renter.    But  I  never  until  this  guiler  grants 
I  found  her  in  the  arms  of  Camarin, 
Drinking  the  frenzied  wine  of  passion 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  75 

He  poured  from  his  soul. 

Amaury.  Yolanda  ? 

Renter.  She  is  silent ; 

Dumb  to  deny  it. 

Amaury.  But  she  will,  she  will. 

YouVe  driven  her  with  dread  and  awe. 

Vittia  (lightly).  And  truth? 

Amaury.    Have  wounded  her.    But  do  not  fear, 

Yolanda ; 
Fiercely  disown. 
Yolanda,  Amaury  ...  it  is  true. 

IHe  staggers  slowly  back. 

No,  no;  I  have  not  been  faithless  to  you — 

Even  a  moment 

To  the  divinity  of  love  high-altared 

Here  in  my  breast!  to  the  immutable 

Beauty  of  it!  .  .  .  look,  look  not  on  me  so — 

As  if  I  had  struck,  murdered  a  little  child! 

Or  palsied  one  who  put  a  hand  to  help  me; 


76  YOLANDA    OF   CYPRUS 

Or  through  eternity  had  desecrated. 
Vainly,  virginity  and  trust  and  truth ! 
No,  my  Amaury!    I  ...  do  you  not  see? 

[Hysterically, 

Not  faithless,  hear!  it  is  not  true!  not  true! 

But  only  this 

Camarin.  Yolanda ! 

Yolanda,  I 

Camarin,  Yolanda ! 

lA  moment,  then  she  sinks  down,  her  face 
in  her  hands.  Amaury  groans;  then 
starting  goes  fiercely  to  Hassan,  and 
taking  his  sword  recrosses  trembling 
to  Camarin. 

Amaury.     The  day  you  first  set  step  in  Lusig- 
nan 
An  image  of  the  Magdalen  within 
The  chapel  yonder  fell — ^presaging  this. 
Only  your  death,  your  death  or  mine  stands  pale 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  77 

Between  us  now,  awaiting  silently. 
Draw,  and  at  once. 

Camarin.  Amaury,  I  will  not. 

Amaury.     Out,  quickly. 

Camarin.    Do  your  will.     Til  put  no  more 
To  the  guilt  I  bear,  or  to  the  misery 
That  guilt  has  brought  upon  you. 

Amaury.  Coward ! 

Camarin.  Strike ! 

Amaury.    You  play  a  part!     (Raves.)     And  'tis 
that  you  may  live 
Still  in  the  love  that  you  a  thief  have  stolen. 
So,  with  your  steel ! 

Camarin.  It  stays  within  its  sheath. 

Amaury.    Then  I  will  not  be  thwarted  though  I 
must 
Crush  you  as  one  a  viper  with  his  heel. 
Though  I  must  take  your  leper  throat  into 
My  hands  and  strangle  life  from  it! 
For  the  same  sky  you  breathe  I  will  not. 
The  sun  that  falls  upon  you  shall  not  foul 


78  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

My  being — 

Though  I  must  go  down  into  hell  for  it. 

IHe  starts,  frenzied,  to  strike,  hut  suddenly 
staggers;   then   clasps   at   his   throat, 
drops    the    sword,    and    sinks    down 
moaning. 
Yolanda.    His  wound! 
Tremitus.  Aeih,  aeih!  at  last. 

Yolanda,  Amaury !     Oh ! 

[Runs  to  him.    He  struggles  to  his  feet, 
Amaury !    Amaury ! 
Amaury.  Stand  away  from  me. 

[She  falls  back;  he  laughs  in  derision. 
I  to  believe  her  pure  as  my  own  mother ! 
Vittia.    Had  you  but  trusted  me,  Amaury. 
Amaury.  You  ? 

[Looks  long  at  her. 
Henceforth  I  will. 

Vittia.  And  wholly? 

Amaury  (significantly).  She  .  .  .  shall  do  it. 

[Starts  into  the  castle. 


YOLANDA    OF    CYPRUS  79 

Yolanda  (dauntedly).    Amaury!  what  is  this? 

Vittia.  That,  ere  a  dawn. 

Guileless  Yolanda,  you  shall  wed  with  him 
Your  paramour  of  Paphos 

Yolanda.  Camarin  ? 

Vittia.    And    from    these    gates   be    led   wanton 
away. 

[Yolanda,  for  a  moment  whelmed,  tries 
to  laugh  scorn;  but,  turning,  her  eye 
meets  Renier's  full  of  suspicion.  He 
follows  Amaury  meaningly  into  the 
castle. 

Curtain 


ACT  III 


The  Same  Day 

Scene:  The  Hall  and  loggia  of  Act  I;  but  toward 
sunset,  and  afar,  on  the  flushed  sea,  are  seen 
the  Usher-boats  returning  pale-winged  to  shore. 
In  the  left  distance,  also,  a  portion  of  Fama- 
gouste  is  visible  above  the  waves — its  orient 
walls  and  towers,  white  domes  and  houses, 
interspersed  with  tall  palms.  The  interior  of 
the  Hall  is  the  same;  only  the  divan  is  placed 
to  the  front  and  left,  the  lectern  near  the  bal- 
cony leading  to  the  sleeping  apartments  and  to 
the  chapel.  Smarda  is  lying  lithely  on  the 
divan,  beguiled  with  her  charms  and  amulets, 
and  fromr  time  to  time  giving  a  low,  sinuous 
laugh.  ViTTiA  enters,  watches  a  moment, 
thoughtful,  then  advances. 

Vittia.    Smarda 

Smarda  {springing  up).    Lady  .  .  .  your  slave! 


84  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Vittia.  I  think  you  are. 

Think  that  you  are — if  ever  the  leopard  yields. 

Smarda.    To  you,  lady?     A-ha!  let  him  refuse. 
Command ! 

Vittia.  And  you  will  heed  it  well ;  I  fear  not. 

But  first  I  have  thought  of  requital. 

Smarda  {avidly) .  Ouie! 

Vittia,    Those   amulets  you  wear,   of  jade   and 
sard^ — 

Smarda  {quickly    dark).    Are    for    revenge — to 
bring  revenge! 

Vittia.  And  from 

Your  Scythian  home,  over  the  hated  sea. 
They  came  with  you. 

Smarda.  Yes. 

Vittia.  From  the  home  whence  you 

Were  torn  by  the  Moor  who  was  your  one-time 

master. 
Is  it  not  so? 

Smarda.        The  spirits  strangle  him ! 

[Works  at  the  charms. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  85 

Vittia,    Well,  if  I  win  to-night  what  is  begun 
You  shall  not  want,  to-morrow, 
Gold  for  a  weightier  witchery  upon  him. 

IThe  slave's  eyes  gleam. 
But  listen,  every  sinew  will  be  needed 
Still  to  achieve  this  wedding,  though  we  have 
Camarin  with  us,  willing.     So  I've  learned 
A  ship  has  come  from  Venice. 

Smarda  {quickly).  Pietro? 

Vittia.    Yes,  Pietro,  it  must  be,  has  arrived 
With  papers  that  will  help. 

Smarda.  Ha !    Fortune's  touch  ! 

Vittia.    It  is,  but  tardy.    Therefore  I  must  have 
Them  instantly. 

Smarda.  Ere  he  has  time,  lady, 

To  vaunt  his  loves,  in  Lusignan,  and  babble. 

Vittia.    As,  wooing  dolt,  he  will.     But  see  to  it. 
I  shall  be  in  this  place  with  lord  Amaury, 
Whom  I  must  .  .  .  but  no  matter. 
He  left  me  suddenly  a  season  since 
Seeing  his  father  look  strangely  upon 


86  YOLANDA   OF    CYPRUS 

His  mother;  for  lord  Renier's  doubt  I  still 
Have  been  compelled  to  feed — to  move  Yolanda. 
Here  in  this  place  then  I  shall  be,  at  need. 

\_She  goes  engrossedly. 

Smarda    {recalling   the   pledge;   evilly),     A-ha! 

ha-ha !  ha-ha !  if  she  but  win ! 
A  talisman  with  might  upon  the  Moor ! 

[Begins  to  dance — a  charm  held  up  before  her. 
If  she  but  win !  a-ha !  a  curse  on  him ! 

[Whirls  faster  with  a  wild  grace,  swaying 
to  and  fro,  and  chanting  softly  the 
while,  till  suddenly  a  laugh  in  the  cor- 
ridor  stops  her,  and  Pietro  is  heard 
through  the  curtains  adoring  Civa, 
who  pushes  him  into  the  Hall,  then 
runs  away  laughing. 

Pietro  {after  her) .    Hold,  fair  one !    Stay!    You 
look  on  Pietro 
Of  Venice !    Pietro ! 
Smarda   {to  herself).    A-ha  .  .  .  ha-ha! 


YOLANDA   OF    CYPRUS  87 

Pietro   {turning).    It  is  the  slave!     {Grandly.) 

I  greet  you,  slave. 
Smarda.  Greeting ! 

Pietro.    I,  Pietro,  who,  as  you  know,  am  sought 
By  all  the  loveliest 

Attending  on  the  lords  and  high  of  Venice. 
Smarda.    So !  ...  So ! 

Pietro.  "The   gentle   Pietro,"   they   say. 

You  may  remember. 
Smarda.  So. 

Pietro.  "  Proud  Pietro !  " 

And  then  they  sigh. 
Smarda.  So. 

Pietro.  Then  they  weep  and  pine — 

"For  Pietro" — until  I  must  console  them. 

Smarda  {going  to  where  he  poses;  contemptu- 
ously). And  for  all  this,  O  prince  of  para- 
mours, 

[Spurns  him. 

My  lady  no  doubt  has  bid  you  to  sail  from  Venice  ? 
Pietro.    Eh? 


88  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Smarda.    Eh !    And  she  will  hear  no  doubt  with 

love 

That  you  delay  the  powers  of  the  Senate 

Sent  in  your  keeping  to  her? 

Pietro.  Slave!  .  .  .  {alarmed)  the  papers? 

Smarda.    With  love  and  with  delight?  since  she 

awaits  them? 

With   joy?     When  told  your  amorous  mouthings 

yonder  ? 

Pietro.     Slave,  she  must  never!     You  will  take 

them  to  her ! 

\Fumhles  for  papers. 

In  to  her  .  ,  .  quickly!  .  .  . 

Dear  slave,  you  will — and  say  if  she  inquire 

That  I  was  led  astray 

By  the  little  Cyprian  with  guiling  eyes 

Who  fell  enamoured  of  me  at  the  gate. 

Smarda.    Civa ! 

Pietro.  The  same !    I  sought  to  run  away, 

Instill  searching. 
O  slave,  say  to  her,  but  I  could  not  for — 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  89 

For — for  a  lady  by  the  marble  knight. 

That  is,  by  the  fountain,  swooned,  as  I  came  in. 

And  then — 

Smarda.       Swooned ! 

Pietro.  As  I  came! 

Smarda   (a-quiver).  Beside  the  fount? 

Who?  which?  lady  Yolanda?  lady  Berengere? 

IHe  stares  at  her  ardour. 
Did  no  one  say  ?  .  .  .  My  mistress  must  know  this ! 
The  papers,  quickly! 

Pietro,  Slave,  you !     By  my  sins! 

[^She  has  seised  them  swiftly,  and  gone. 
He  follows  amazed.  Then  sunset  be- 
gins without,  crimson  and  far;  and 
Amaury  appears  from  the  loggia, 
reckless  and  worn.  He  pauses,  looks 
about  him,  troubled. 

'Amaury.    Not  here  yet.  .  .  .  There  is  more  in 
this  than  seems. 

l^Goes  to  divan  and  sits.    Vittia  enters  behind. 


90  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

More,  Camarin  of  Paphos,  than  is  clear! 

IStarts  up. 

And  she  must  tell  me !     (Sees  Vittia.)     Lady,  you 
I  mean. 

[Vittia  advances  inquiringly. 

What  is  beyond  this  shame  upon  Yolanda? 

Vittia.    My  lord ? 

Amaury.      What !     It  is  moving  in  me  clouded, 
Deeper  than  sight  but  pressing  at  my  peace. 
My  father's  look !  you  saw  it ! 

Vittia.  Ah ! 

Amaury.  And   saw 

Fear  in  my  mother ! 

Vittia.  Yes,   implanted  deep. 

Amaury.    And  did  not  wonder? 

Vittia  (sits).  When  I  knew  its  source? 

No  need,  my  lord — though  your  pang  too  I  marked — 
For,  trust  me,  ere  to-morrow  all  will  cease — 
If  you  are  firm. 

Amaury.  I?  who  know  nought?    In  what? 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  91 

Vittia.     That  do  not  ask,  I  pray.     {Deftly.)     An- 
other could 
Fitly  reply,  but  I 

Amaury.  No  other  better! 

Vittia.     Then  ...  it  will   cease,   my  lord — 
So  as  a  flail  of  doubt  it  should  not  still 
Beat  in  you — when  Yolanda 
Is  wed  with  Camarin  .  .  .  no,  do  not  speak; 
The  reason  for  your  sake  I  must  withhold. 

Amaury.    Though   as  under  sirocco  I  am  kept. 

iSits. 
Sirocco !  ...  It  is  unintelligible ! 

[Rises.    A  pause. 
Yet  you  speak  gently. 

Vittia,  No;  unblushingly ! 

[He  looks  surprised. 

Unblushingly  to  one  who  knows — though  by 
A  chance — my  love  to  him — my  lowered  love. 

[Turns  away. 
And  yet  I  cannot  rue 

That  he  awaking  sudden  from  the  potion 


93  YOLANDA    OF    CYPRUS 

Surprised  yearning  and  truth  upon  my  lips. 

No,  and  I  would  that  gentle  words  might  be 

As  waters  of  enchantment  on  his  grief. — 

But  of  Yolanda — 

IRises, 

Amaury.  Still  I  love  her,  still ! 

Vittia  (strainedly) .    As  well  she  knows,  so  may 
refuse  to  wed 
With  Camarin. 

Amaury.  She? 

Vittia.  Since  you  are  Lusignan, 

Heir  of  a  sceptred  line, 
And  yet  may  reach — the  realm. 

Amaury  (pierced).        Which  ...  do  you  mean. 
She  hopes  of  ? 

Vittia,  Were  it  folly  to  make  sure? 

{A  pause. 

Amaury.    How?  speak. 

Vittia.  Again  unshameful?    No;  one  thing 

Alone  would  serve  you.    That  I  must  not  bring 
My  tongue  to  falter. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  93 

Amaury.  Be  it  so. 

Vittia,  And   yet  .  .  . 

IHe  has  turned  away. 

Yet  I  must  bend  to !  and,  my  lord,  I  will ! 

Will  ...  for  you  suffer! 

Will,  though  indelicacy  seem  to  soil 

Whatever  bloom  I  boasted. 

IGoes  to  him. 

It  is  this: 
To  let  her  .  .  .  but  for  to-day  ... 
Think  you  ...  for  she's  aware  of  my  affection  .  .  . 
Have  chosen — to  wed  me. 

Amaury.  You ! 

Vittia.  For  to-day. 

To-morrow  I  return  to  Venice,  then 
Denial. 

Amaury  {moved).    Lady — ? 

Vittia.  I  will  bear  it. 

Amaury.  .  .  .  Thus? 

[Struggles. 


94  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Then  it  shall  be.    And  grateful  I'll  await 
The  issue's  utterance.     And  stay,  wear  this — 

[Takes  off  a  ring. 
From  her  dead  father's  hand — 
As  a  proof  to  her  of  any  tie  soever. 
But  now — for  the  sails  make  home  along  the  sea — 
Now  of  my  mother. 

Vittia,  More,  my  lord? 

[Smarda  glides  in. 

Amaury.  This  only. 

To-morrow  when  again  she  .  .  .  Scythian ! 

[The  slave  is  gleaming  strangely. 

Vittia.     Smarda !   what   do   you   mean  ?  why   are 

you  here? 

[Sees  papers;  takes  them. 

These — ^but    not    these    alone    have    brought    you ! 

What? 

[Follows  Smarda's  eye. 
Of  lord  Amaury? 

Smarda,  Of  his  mother. 

Vittia.  How ! 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  95 

Smarda.     She   swooned  of  terror   at  the   castle 
gate. 
She  lies  in  danger.    Hear — 'twas  as  she  fled 
The  lord  of  Lusignan. 

Amaury,  My  father? 

Smarda.  He. 

And  you  are  sought  below,  I  heard  it  said: 
Some  officer  of  Famagouste — and  men. 

[Amaury  turns  dazed  and  goes. 

Vittia   (through  a  surge  of  thoughts  that  have 

darkened  her  face). 
This  is  again  fortune !  .  .  .  fortune ! 
Smarda.  Lady  ? 

Vittia.    Is !   though   an   instant   since   it   seemed 

disaster. 
Smarda.    And  how? 

Vittia.  Yolanda,  does  not  know?  nothing? 

Smarda.    Nothing.  She  was  returning  from  the 

rocks, 

Where  nest  the  windy  gulls, 

[Gloatingly. 


96  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

As  I  came  hither.    I  stole  there  at  noon 
To  see  her  suffer. 

Vittia.  Then — I  can  compel  her. 

She  will  come  here.    Go  to  the  curtains,  see. 
If  she  is  near,  the  Paphian  is  in 
The  bower  by  the  cypress:  there,  tell  him. 
The  loggia — at  once  .  .  .  Ah ! 

YoLANDA  enters. 

Yolanda   {to  herself).  "Ah"  indeed. 

IHer  look  of  purpose  changes  to  one  of 
distrust.  But  she  firmly  fronts  to  Vit- 
tia, as  the  slave  slips  out, 

Vittia.    My   gratitude !   I   wished,   and   you   are 

here. 
Yolanda.    And — for  some  reason  of  less  honour 

— ^you. 
Vittia.    I,  a  dear  guest  ?  fa ! 
Yolanda.  Would  you  were !  .  .  .  not  one 

This  ne'er-before-envenomed  air  would  banish. 

[Slowly. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  97 

One  whose  abiding 

These    walls    would    loathe    aloud  —  had    they    a 

tongue 
To  utter. 

Vittia.       Yet  I  may  be  mistress  of  them, 
Ere  all  is  done — since  still  it  is  my  purpose. 

Yolanda,    Gulfs  wide  as  the  hate  of  God  for  in- 
famy 
Would  lie  preventing;  so  there  is  no  fear. 

[Sits. 
Vittia.    A  prophesy ! 

Yolanda.  A  deeper  than  disdain. 

Vittia.    Or    than    your    love    of    Camarin    of 
Paphos ! 

Yolanda.    Which  you  would  feign,  but  cannot. 

Vittia.  Still,  before 

Evening  is  done,  you  will  become  his  wife. 

Yolanda.    If,  ere  it  come,  all  under  Lusig^an 
Do  not  look  scorn  on  Vittia  Pisani. 

IRises. 
Vittia.    What!  how? 


98  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Yolanda.     Plentiful     scorn!       {With    joy.)       A 
thing  may  still 
Be  done  to  lift  my  hope  out  of  this  ruin  I 
To  bring  Amaury  grateful  to  my  feet ! 
And  I  will  do  it. 

Vittia.  Tell?  .  .  .  vowing  him  first 

To  win  his  father's  lenience  ?  .  .  .  No  ...  I  see ! 
You  will  when  she  who's  guilty 
And  this  enamoured  Paphian  are  fled! 

[Yolanda  turns  pale. 

When  they  are  fled !  ha  .  .  .  And  it  is  too  late. 

Yolanda.    Too — ?  {stunned).    You  by  a  trick — 
some  trick  have — ! 

Vittia.  Hindered  ?    Little 

I  needed  .  .  .  Her  wings  are  flightless.     She  is  ill, 
Verging — go  learn! — to  death. 

Yolanda.  Oh  ...  ! 

Vittia.  To  the  grave. 

And  you  alone,  she  knows,  can  put  it  far — 
Since  she  is  numbed  and  drained 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  99 

Momently  by  the  terror  of  her  husband, 
Whose  every  pulse  seems  to  her  a  suspicion. 

Yolanda.    And    it    is    you  .  .  .  you    who    have 
urged  again 
His  doubt  that  would  have  sunk! 

Vittia.  It  was  enough 

Merely  to  sigh — and  fear  her  innocence 
Can  only  seem'  simple  as  dew  again 
If  you  wed  freely  Camarin  of  Paphos. 

Yolanda.    And  that  you  could!   though   in  her 
heart  remorse 
Trampled  and  tore! 

Though  with  the  wounds  of  battle  he  you  "  love  " 
Is  livid  still. 

Vittia.  And  grieves  ? — Be  comforted  ! 

For  he  is — ^now  security  has  come. 

{Shows  the  ring;  Yolanda  falls  back. 
As  he  is,  do  not  fear. 

Yolanda.  Amaury!  ...  Oh! 

My  father's  gift — so  desecrated?     So? — 
Ah,  you  are  merciless ! 


loo  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Vittia,  Only  aware 

How  to  compel  your  pity  to  my  ends; 
For  you  will  spare  his  mother. 

Yolanda.  Yielding — still, 

And  past  all  season  of  recovery? 
Shattering  love  for  ever  at  my  feet? 
No,    you    are    duped.      For    empty,    cold    are    the 

veins 
Now  of  submission  in  me;  numb  and  dead 
The  pleading  of  it.    And  upon  you,  back, 
I  cast  the  burden  of  your  cruelty. 

\_Slowly. 
And — if  she  dies  in  terror  of  the  lips 
Of  Renier  Lusignan — on  your  peace 
The  guilt  be ! 

Vittia.  Fa. 

Yolanda.  The  heaping  mass  of  horror! 

Vittia  {moved).  Liar,  on  her  own;  for  she  has 
sinned. 

Yolanda.  And  suffered ! 

But  you 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  loi 

Vittia,  I  say  her  own.    I've  done  no  crime. 

And  you  will  wed  him. 

Yolanda.  Or,  .  .  .  Venetian — 

Wed  you  to  Remorse ! 
For  there  at  the  gates  that  guard  your  rest  you 

hear 
Dim  now  the  risen  phantom  cries  of  it, 
The  presage  beat  of  them  like  hungry  hands 
That  will  overwhelm  you ! 
All  that  I  could  to  spare  her  I  have  done ; 
All  that  was  duty  and  of  love  the  most. 
But  you  it  was  who  struck  and  kindled  first 
Within  lord  Renier  fire  of  suspicion. 
And  you  it  is — 

Since  in  the  worst  that  live  there  yet  is  heaven ! — 
Must  null  his  doubt  and  ease  the  sobbing  ebb 
And  flood  of  her  sick  spirit;  you  who  must 
Go  to  his  fear  and  with  persuasion  say 
That  it  is  folly  of  him  and  of  you 
So  to  suspect  her,  since  in  Camarin's 
Arms  I  was  found.    You  will ! 


102  YCLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Vittia.  And — then  go  pray? 

IDraws  out  the  papers  scornfully. 

Rather  I'll  bring  you  this: — Authority 

Sent  me  of  Venice 

To  make  Amaury  lordly  over  Cyprus, 

Or  to  abase  him  even  of  Famagouste; 

Which  I  will  do— 

IGoes  to  her. 

Unless  I  have  the  pledge  that  you  will  wed. 
Though  not  to  be  his  wife  and  free  to  leave  him, 
This  Paphian, 
And  with  him  from  Lusignan  hence  will  pass. 

[Camarin  appears  on  loggia. 

And  he  has  come  now  for  your  answer. 

Yolanda.  Here ! 

In  league  with  you  I  in  this ! 

Vittia.  Most  loyally; 

And  ready  skilfully  to  disavow, 
With  every  force,  your  innocence — if  you 
Attempt  betrayal ! — 


YOIjANDA   of   CYPRUS  103 

Enter,  my  lord  of  Paphos — I  have  spoken. 

[Camarin  enters  desperately. 
But  she  has  pledged  no  further — though  the  life 
Of  Berengere  Lusignan  fall  for  it, 
And  though  Amaury  .  .  .  But  you  may  avail. 

[Moves  off.     YoLANDA  stands  silently  be- 
tween them.     Camarin  looks  at  her, 
falters,  then  turns  on  Vittia. 
Camarin.    As  an  anchorite  covets,  Venetian, 
Immortal  calm,  I  crave  and  covet  this ! 
Yet  ...  I  will  not  entreat  it  of  her  more. 
Vittia.    What ! 
Camarin.    Fate  may  fall.     I  swore  in  dread,  but 

will  not! 
Yolanda  (low).    Madonna! 
Vittia.  You  refuse? 

Yolanda.  He  does. 

Vittia.  The  whole? 

Yolanda.    Lady  of  Venice,  yes ;  for  very  shame ! 

[With  deep  joy. 
Bitterly  tho'  it  be,  he  must,  for  shame ! 


104  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

For  though  he  would  waste  the  air  of  the  world  to 

keep 
The  breath  still  in  the  veins 
Of  her  his  love  so  wronged, 
He  cannot  ask  me  more  than  breast  can  bear — 
Knowing  I  have  already  borne  for  her 
Infection  worse  than  fetid  marshes  send 
From  Mesaoria-^ 

Have  lost  the  sky  of  love  that  I  had  arched 
And  all  the  stars  of  it.     See,  he  is  dumb! — 
He  cannot. 

Camarin    (coldly).    No;    but    to   your    heart    I 
leave  her 
And  to  your  pity. 

Yolanda,  Say  not  pity  to  me! 

[The  word  overwhelms  her  anew. 
Am  I  not  needy,  fain  of  it,  and  can 
Endurance  ever  dure! 
What  have  I  left  .  .  . 
Of  joy  to  ripple  in  me  or  of  light 
To  sway  me  to  forgetting — I  to  whom 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  105 

Dawn  was  enchanted  incense  once,  and  day, 
The  least  of  earth,  an  ides  of  heaven  bliss. 
What  to  me  left!  to  me! 
Who  shepherded  each  happy  flock  of  waves 
Running  with  silvery  foaming  there  to  shore. 
Who    numbered    the    little    leaves    with    laughing 

names 
Out  of  my  love, 
And  quickened  the  winds  with   quicker  winds   of 

hope. 
That  now  are  spent  ...  as  summer  waters. 
Leaving  my  breast  a  torrent's  barren  bed. 
Pity  and  pity!  ever  pity!     No. 

\_Enter  Hassan. 
A  nun  to  pity  I  will  be  no  more. 
But  you,  cruel  Venetian  .  .  .  Ah,  ah, 
Mother  of  God!  is  there  no  gentleness 
In  thee  to  move  her  and  dissolve  away 
This  jeopardy  congealing  over  us? 

lA  pause, 
Vittia.    You  see,  none. 


io6  YOLANDA    OF    CYPRUS 

Yolanda.  Ah,  for  sceptre  and  for  might 

Then  to  compel  you. 

Vittia.  Still,  there  is  none. 

Yolanda.  None  .  .  . 

{Sinks  to  a  seat  in  despair. 

Yet  could  I  think! 

Hassan,  Lady  Yolanda — 

{Advances. 

Yolanda.  Were 

My  brain  less  weary! 
Hassan.  Lady  Yolanda — 

Yolanda.  Well? 

Hassan.    There  is  a  means — a  might. 
Yolanda.  Well? 

[Is  half  heedless. 
Hassan.  To  compel  her. 

Yolanda.    To  .  .  .  what? 

Hassan.  If  you  will  dare  it. 

Yolanda.  Will—? 

[Rises. 
Hassan.  I  swear. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  107 

Yolanda.    Your  thought !     I  have  no  fear. 

Hassan,  Then  ...  let  me  but 

Seize  her  and  shut  her  fast  an  hour  within 
The  leprous  keep,  and  she  shall  write  whate'er 
You  order;  then  upon  a  vessel  quick 
Be  sent  to  Venice  whence  she  came. 

Camarin.  Mad!  mad! 

Venice  would  rise ! 

Hassan.  And  Cyprus,  to  be  free! — 

But  'tis  not,  lady!  and  lord  Renier 
Shall  have  a  letter  of  her  guile  and  flight. 
Venture  it,  venture! 

Yolanda  {after  a  long  pause).    If  it  can  be  done, 
It  shall  be. 

Hassan.       Ah ! 

Yolanda.  And  must  be. 

Vittia.  Fools,  to  me! 

IShe  stands  defensive,  as  Hassan  prepares  to 
close  in. 

Yolanda.     Quickly,  and  take  her. 

Hassan.  Now. 


io8  YOLANDA   OF    CYPRUS 

Camarin  (with  sudden  horror).    No!  .  .  .  Sate- 
less God! 

IHis  eyes  are  fixed  on  the  balcony.     All 
look,  appalled.     For  slowly  down  the 
steps    comes    Renier    following    Be- 
RENGERE,  whose  cycs  turn  back  in  flut- 
tering trance  upon  him. 
Yolanda.    Ah!  ...  he  will  kill  her!     Stop,  my 
lord !  mother ! 
Lord  Renier! 

[Runs;  takes  Berengere  in  her  arms. 

Cold  is  she,  stony  pale. 
And  sinking !  ...  Go  away  from  her,  go,  go ! 

Renier.    No  .  .  .  she  shall  tell  me. 

Yolanda.  Mother !  .  . .  Tell  you  that 

You  are  her  murderer? 

Renier.  The  truth ! 

Yolanda.  The  truth! 

[Laughs  bitterly,  and  at  a  loss,  as  if  amazed. 
Then,  almost  against  her  will — 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  109 

It  is  suspicion !  is  that  mad  suspicion 
That  you  have  had  of  her. 

Renier.  It  is!    It  is! 

Yolanda.    And — all   because   I  have  these  days 
delayed 
To  wed  with  Camarin. 

Renier.  Delayed  ? 

Yolanda,  Because 

I  show  befitting  shame  that  I  was  here 
Found  in  his  arms  .  .  .  when  to  Amaury 
I  was  betrothed! 

Renier,  Power  of — ! — No! 

Yolanda,  Because 

I  grieve  to  leave  Lusignan,  this  my  home — 
Where  I  have  dwelt  as  under  tented  love — 
Though  I  am  bidden. 

Renier,  This  can  be? 

Berengere  {faintly).  Yolanda! 

Renier,    I  say — only  delayed?  and  you — ? 

Yolanda,  Yes,  yes. 

Now  I  will  wed  him,  heedless,  wantless,  wild. 


no  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Send  for  the  priest  and  for  Amaury,  for 
Laughter  and  lights  and  revelry — for  all 
Within  this  castle.     But  first  to  her  bed. 
And  to  tranquillity, 

She  must  be  borne,  she  your  cold  violenc 
Has  driven  here.  .  .  .  Alessa — Tremitus! 

[They  have  entered. 

Lead  her  within.    O  mother !  piteous  mother ! 

Ah,  it  was  ruthless,  kindless ! 
Renier,  We  shall  see. 

[To  Hassan. 

Bid  Moro  and  Amaury. — As  for  her, 
I  soon  may  come  and  seek  forgiveness. 
Berengere.  No ! 

[Hassan  goes. 

My  brain  and  breath !  ...  the  pall  .  .  .  where  am 

I  .  .  .  how 
Long  must  I  lie !  .  .  . 

Tremitus.  She  speaks  to  visions.    So, 


YOLANDA    OF   CYPRUS  in 

So  can  the  blood  do — trick  us  utterly ! 

IHe  supports  her — with  Alessa — slowly 
up  steps  and  off.  Yolanda  covers  her 
eyes.  Hassan  returns  with  Moro, 
then,  and  with  Amaury,  whose  look 
seeks  ViTTiA. 
Yolanda  (as  all  stand  silent).    Speak,  speak,  and 

tell  him! 
Renier.  Yes,  Amaury  .  .  .  you 

Are  sent  for  to  behold  Yolanda  wed. 
As  you  commanded, 

Here  unto  Camarin.     Shame  has  till  now 
Withheld  her,  but  .  .  .  what  ails  you? 

Amaury.  On;  go  on. 

The  sudden  blood  up  to  my  wounds. 

Renier.  It  has, 

I  say,  withheld  her.     But  she  now  has  chosen. 
Amaury,     So;  and  ...  it  is  well.    And  here  are 
her 
Vows  I  have  kept — 

[Takes  a  packet  from  his  breast. 


iM  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Vows  and  remembrances  ...  I  shall  aspire — 

[Hands  it;  she  lets  it  fall. 
That  I  may  loathe  her  not  o'ermuch;  and  to 
Muffle  my  sword  from  him  that  now  she  weds. 

[His  voice  breaks  tonelessly. 
Come,  let  it  be. 
Yolanda.  Amaury ! 

Amaury  {angrily).  Priest,  be  brief! 

MoRO    (before    them;    as    Caramin    takes    Yo- 
landa's  hand). 
The  Church  invests  me,  and  the  powers  of 
This  island,  here  to  make  you  man  and  wife. 
Be  joined,  ye  who  have  sinned. 
In  soul,  peace  and  repentances  for  ever. 

[He  signs  the  cross,  Yolanda  stands 
dazed.  A  silence.  Then  a  shudder- 
ing cry  and  all  turn  toward  the  bal- 
cony, where  Alessa  bursts,  pale  and 
wild  and  striving  to  speak. 
Yolanda  {with  dread,  awe,  premonition) .  Alessa ! 
Alessa.  Lady  Yolanda  !  you  have  wed  him  ? 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  113 

Yolanda  {pausing).    Yes. 

Alessa.  Lady  Berengere  is  dead. 

Yolanda.  No!  ...  No  I 

[Chokes  rebelliously. 

It  cannot  be  !  mother !  cannot !  awake  her ! 
And  tell  her  I  have  wed  him !  mother !  cannot ! 

\_Goes  trembling,  helieHessly,  up  the  bal- 
cony. A  strange  doubt  seizes  Am- 
AURY.  On  the  rest  is  silence,  conster- 
nation, and  fear. 

Curtain 


ACT  IV 


Scene  :  The  Chapel  of  the  Castle — or  Chapel  of  the 
Magdalen — a  few  hours  later.  It  is  of  stone, 
low-arched,  gloomy,  and  adorned  with  Byzan- 
tine mosaics  of  gaunt  saints  on  backgrounds 
of  gold.  The  altar  is  in  the  rear,  and  above 
it  a  large  window,  through  which  pours  the 
still  moon.  In  front  of  it,  to  either  side,  rise 
two  pillars  supporting  the  roof,  and  on  one 
of  them,  halfway  up,  stands  a  stone  image  of 
the  Magdalen.  Forward  are  two  other  pillars 
whose  bases  form  seats.  The  right  wall  has, 
set  midway,  a  large  door  hung  with  heavy  cur- 
tains. In  the  rear  are  smaller  doors  leading 
to  a  sacristy.  The  altar  lamp  and  a  few  tapers 
burn.  Alessa  enters,  rubbing  her  eyes  as  if  to 
clear  them  of  vision,  looks  around,  then  calls 
uncertainly — 


ii8  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Alessa.    Good  father !    Father  Moro  !  ...  He  is 

not  here. 

[Rubs  her  eyes  again. 

The  dead  are  strange !    I  knew  not  of  their  power. 
It  is  as  if  her  spirit  still  imprisoned 
Hovered  beneath  the  pallor  of  her  face 
And  strove  to  speak.     Good  father! 

[Enter  Moro. 

Ah,  you  were 
There  in  the  sacristy. 

Moro.  Yes.     Your  desire? 

Alessa.    The    acolytes    summoned    from    Fama- 
gouste 
To  aid  your  rites  before  her  burial 
Have  come,  and  wait, 
Moro,  Send  hither  two. 

[Looks  closely  at  her. 

Alessa,  At  once. 

[Is  going.    He  stops  her. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  119 

Mora.    Woman,  this  passes  silence.    There  must 
be 
Some  question.    Do  you  understand  this  wedding? 
The  evil  that  has  risen  in  this  house? 
Do  you? 

Alessa.    I  may  not  speak. 

Moro.  And  wherefore  may  not? 

Alessa.    I  may  not.    It  is  best. 

Moro.  As  says  Yolanda, 

Who  is  to-day  impenetrable  in  all. 
But  who,  now,  in  a  lofty  grief  above 
The  misery  that  blasted  her,  seems  calm. 
And  answers  only, — 
"  God  in  His  season  will, 
I  trust,  unfold  it  soon ;  I  cannot,  now ! "  .  .  . 
And  yet  I  heard 

Her  darkly  bid  the  Paphian  be  gone 

From  here — without  her. 

Alessa,  And  he  would  not? 

Moro.  No. 

Does  she  not  see  Amaury  dangerous 


130  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

For  truth — which  you  conceal? 

Alessa.  The  acolytes 

Are  waiting. 

Moro.           Go  .  .  .  But  if  this  hour  brings  forth 
What  you  shall  rue 

Alessa,  Father ! 

[Goes  quickly,  troubled. 

Moro,  In  blindness  still ! 

For  Vittia  Pisani,  who  alone 
Seems  with  these  twain  to  share  this  mystery 
Is  silent  to  all  importunity. 
Oh,  Berengere  Lusignan ! — 

But,  'tis  mine 
To  pray  and  to  prepare.     {Listens.)     The  acolytes. 
[Two  enter,  sleek,  sanctimonious. 
(To  Them.)     Come  here  .  .  .  You're  Serlio, 
Of  the  Ascension.    You? 

2nd  Acolyte.  Hilarion. 

From  Santa  Maria  by  the  Templars*  well, 
Which  God  looks  on  with  gratitude,  father. 
For  though  we're  poor  and  are  unworthy  servants 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  lai 

We've  given  willingly  our  widow's  mite. 
And  now  we  .  .  . 

Moro,  You  are  summoned  to  this  place 

For  ministrations  other  than  the  tongue's. 
Prepare  that  altar — masses  for  the  dead. 

Hilarion.    Man  is  as  grass  that  withers! 

Moro,  Kindle  all 

Its  tapers.    The  departed  will  be  borne 
Hither  for  holy  care  and  sacred  rest. 
So  do — then  after 

Look  to  that  image  of  the  Magdalen, 
Once  it  has  fallen. 

Serlio,  Domine,  dirige! 

[Moro  goes.     They  put  off  cant  and  set  to 
work. 

Hilarion  {insolently,  lighting  a  taper). 
We'll  have  good  wine  for  this! 

Serlio.  The  Chian !     Heel 

None's  like  the  Chian!  and  to-morrow,  meat! 
Last  week  old  Ugo  died  and  we  had  pheasant. 


122  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Hilarion.    When   we   are   priests   we'll   give   no 
comforting 
To  wife  or  maid — ^till  we  have  sipped ! 

Serlio.  And  supped ! 

Though  'tis  a  Friday  and  the  Pope  is  dead ! 

[^Silence.     They  work  faster, 
Hilarion.    There,  it  is  done.    Now  to  the  image. 

[Mounts  pillar, 
Serlio,  Well, 

Olympio,  the  cock  who  fetched  us,  said 

That  image  fell  first  on  the  day 

Hilarion.  Tchuck!  tchuck! 

Better  no  breath  about  that  lord  of  Paphos, 
Or  any  here.    For  till  the  dead  are  three 
Days  gone,  you  know — !     But  there's  the  woman. 
Feign. 

[As  Alessa  re-enters;  hypocritically. 

The  blessed  dead !  in  Purgatory  may 
They  briefly  bide. 

Serlio.  Aye!  aye! 

Alessa  {still  troubled).  What   say   you? 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  123 

Hilarion.  Ah ! 

I  lay  that  it  is  wiser  never  to  foul 
The  dead,  even  in  thinking, 
For  they  may  hear  us,  none  can  say,  and  once 
My  mother  saw  a  dead  mani  who  had  gone 
Unshriven  start  up  white  and  cry  out  loud 
When  he  was  curst. 

Serlio.  O  Lord! 

Alessa  (staring).  No!  .  .  .  Well,  such  things 

There  are  perchance.  And  now  they  say  that  Venus, 
The  Anadyomene,  who  once  ruled  this  isle. 
Is  come  again.  .  .  .  But  you  have  finished?     Soon 
They  bring  her  body  here. 

Hilarion.  Now  have  I,  now! 

It  will  not  totter  again. 

\_Descends. 

Alessa.  Would  that  it  might 

Upon  the  head  of (catches  herself;  calmly) 

You  are  awaited 

There  in  the  sacristy.  .  .  .  The  chant  begins ! 

[The  acolytes  go.    She  grows  more  disquieted. 


134  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Begins!  and  lady  Yolanda  still  awaits 
Heedless,  though  Lord  Amaury's  desperate, 
As  is  the  Paphian !  .  .  .  They  near !  .  .  .  The  cur- 
tains ! 

IGoes  to  door  and  draws  them  back.    As 
she  does  so  the  chant  swells  louder. 
Then   the   cortege    enters — Moro,    the 
acolytes  with  tapers;  Berengere  on  a 
litter,  Amaury,   Renier,   Vittia,   the 
women,  Hassan,   and   last  Yolanda. 
The  litter,   Amaury   hy  it,  comes  to 
the  altar;  the  chanting  ceases. 
Moro  (as  Amaury  bows,  shaken). 
No  moan  or  any  toil  of  grief  be  here 
Where  we  have  brought  her  for  sainted  appeal. 
But  in  this  holy  place  until  the  tomb 
Let  her  find  rest. 

Amaury.  Set  down  the  bier. 

lit  is  placed. 
Moro.  Lone  rest! 

Then  bliss  Afar  for  ever ! 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  125 

Amaury  (rises).  Be  it  so! 

[Turning;  brokenly. 
But  unto  any,  mother,  who  have  brought  thee 
Low  to  this  couch,  be  never  ease  again. 
To  any  who  have  put  thy  life  out,  never ! 
But  in  them  be  the  burning  that  has  seemed 
To  shrivel  thee — whether  with  pain  or  fear ! 
And  be  appeaseless  tears, 
Salt  tears  that  rust  the  fountain  of  the  heart. 

[Sinks  to  a  seat.    A  pause. 

Mora.    My  son,  relentless  words. 

Amaury  {up  again).  To  the  relentless! 

Moro.     God  hear  you  not ! 

Amaury.  Then  is  He  not  my  God. 

Moro.     Enough,   enough.      (To   the   rest.)      But 
go  and  for  her  soul 
Freight  all  of  you  this  tide  of  night  with  prayer. 

Amaury.     Never ! 

Moro.  I  bid. 

A^naury.  And  I  forbid  those  who 

Have  prized  her  not ! 


126  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

For  though  nought's  in  the  world  but  prayer  may 

move, 
Still  but  the  lips  that  loved  her 
Should  for  her  any  sin  beseeching  lift. 

[Looking  at  Yolanda. 
They  and  no  other! 

Yolanda,  It  is  well. 

Amaury.  Not  one. 

Yolanda.    Then,  mother 

[Goes  to  bier. 

Amaury,  That  name  again? 

Yolanda,  While  I  have  breath. 

[Fixedly. 
Yes,  though  you  hold  me  purgeless  of  that  sin 
Only  the  pale  archangels  may  endure 
Trembling  to  muse  on ! 
Or  though  yon  image  of  the  Magdalen, 
Whose  alabaster  broke  amid  her  tears 
And  her  torn  hair,  forbade  me  with  a  voice. 
And  you,  whose  heart  is  shaken 
As  in  a  tomb  a  taper's  flame,  would  know 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  127 

I  speak  with  love. 

Camarin.  Unswerving  love. 

Amaury.  Then,  by 

Christ,  and  the  world  that  craves  His  blood,  I  think 
She,  if  she  would,  or  you,  could  point  to  me, 
Or  you,  Vittia  Pisani, 
The  reason  of  this  sudden  piteous  death 
Hard  on  the  haunted  flight  before  my  father. 
Whose  lips  refuse. 

Camarin.  She  knows  no  shred  of  it. 

Amaury.    You  lie  to  say  it. 

Camarin.  Then   will,    still — if   there 

Is  need. 

Amaury.     Because  you  love  her? 

Yolanda.  Peace,  peace,  peace. 

Amaury.    A  hollow  word   for  what  had  never 
being. 

Yolanda.    Look  on  her  face  and  see. 

Amaury  {at  bier).  Upon  her  face! 

Where  not  oblivion  the  void  of  death 
Has  hid  away,  or  can,  the  agony 


128  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Of  her  last  terror — but  it  trembles  still. 

I  tell  you,  no.     Grief  was  enough,  but  now 

Through  it  has  risen  mystery  that  chokes 

As  a  miasma  from  Iscariot's  tomb. 

And  till  this  pall  of  doubt  be  rent  away 

No  earth  shall  fall  and  quicken  with  her  dust! 

But  I  will  search  her  face  .  .  .  till  it  reveals. 

Camarin.     He  raves. 

Amaury.  Iscariot !  yes  ! 

Yolanda.  Again,  peace,  peace ! 

Amaury.    That  you  may  palter ! 

Yolanda  (gently).  That  she  may  not  grieve. 

\_Goes  again  to  bier. 
For — if  her  soul  is  near — it  now  is  wrung. 
Near !  would  it  were  to  hear  me  and  impart 
Its  yearning  and  regret  to  us  who  live. 
Its  dim  unhappiness  and  hollow  want. 
Yes,  mother,  were  you  now  about  us,  vain, 
Invisible  and  without  any  voice 
To  tell  us  of  you ! 
Were  you  and  now  could  hear  through  what  of  cold 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  129 

Or  silence  wrap  you,  oh,  so  humanly. 
And  seeming  but  a  veil — 
Then  would  you  hear  me  say — 

[Suddenly  aghast. 
Ah,  God ! 
Amaury.  Yolanda ! 

[She  starts  hack  from  the  bier, 
Yolanda ! 
Renier.    Girl,  what  rends  you? 
Yolanda.  Saw  you  not? 

[Rushes  to  bier  and  shakes  it. 
Mother !  you  hear  me  ?  mother ! 
Renier.  Girl ! 

Yolanda.  She  breathes! 

[Consternation.    Some  fall  to  their  knees. 
Vittia.    What?  what? 
Yolanda.  Mother!    Her  breast! 

Mother  I     She  moves  ! 
Amaury.    God !    God ! 

Yolanda.        Stand  off  from  her  .  .  .  Mother! 
Camarin.  Her  eyes!  .  .  . 


130  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

They  open !  open  ! 

Yolanda.  Mother!  .  .  . 

Amaury.  See;  her  lips! 

They  strive  to  speak !    O  faintly,  O  so  faint ! 
Can  you  not  hear? 

Berengere.  Yolanda ! 

Yolanda.  Mother ! 

Berengere,  Renier ! 

Renter .    Yes,  yes? 

Berengere.  Yolanda — 

Renier.  Speak ! 

Berengere.  Christ,  save  me  .  .  .  Christ ! 

Yolanda's  innocent,  and  I  .  .  .  'twas  I. 

Amaury.    What?  what  is  it  she  says? 

Berengere.  Camarin  !     Ah  ! 

[^She  shudders  and  dies,  amid  low-uttered 
awe.  Renter  bends,  lays  his  hand  a 
moment  on  her  breast,  then,  with  a 
cry  of  rage,  springs  from  her  and 
draws,  and  rushes  on  Camarin,  who 
awaits  him,  desperate. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  131 

Amaury  {confused,  as  they  engage). 
Yolanda;  what  is  this? 

Yolanda.  Amaury,   in ! 

Compel  lord  Renier  back!  he  cannot  live, 
You  only  could  against  Camarin  now ! 
Wait  not  to  question,  but  obey  me !  if — 
You  ever — !    {as  he  rushes  in)    Holy  Magdalen, 
defend  him ! 

[Renier  falls  hack. 

Now,  now  defend  him,  if  to  chastity 
Thou'rt  vowed  in  heaven. 

Vittia.  Fool !  .  .  .  Camarin,  strike ! 

Yolanda.    He's  wounded! 

Camarin.        Oh !  .  .  .  Berengere !  .  .  .  treachery ! 

[He  staggers  and  sinks  back  heavily  toward 
the  pillar.  There  is  breathless,  strained 
suspense.  Then  the  image  above,  un- 
settled and  shaken  by  his  fall,  sways, 
totters  and  crushes  upon  him.  A  cry, 
"The  Magdalen!"  goes  up  around. 


13a  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Hassan  {hurrying  to  him;  after  awe  and  silence). 
He's  dead. 

Alessa,       The  Magdalen! 

Hassan.  No  breath  in  him. 

[^  pause. 

Renier  {low,  harshly). 
Bear  him  without  then  ever  from  this  place. 
That  never  more  shall  know  a  holy  rite — 
And  from  these  gates,  I  care  not  to  what  tomb. 

\To   A  MAURY. 

Then  shall  you  hear  this  mystery's  content, 
That  still  as  a  madness  measures  to  your  sight. 
Bear  him  without. 

{The  limp  body  is  home  away.    All  follow  hut 
Amaury,  Yolanda,  Renier. 
Now  you  shall  hear,  with  shame. 
But  with  exalted  pride  and  happy  tears ; 
Then  come  obliteration! 
Speak,  girl  .  .  .  Nobility 
Had  never  better  title  to  its  truth. 

{Kisses  her  hand  and  goes. 


YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS  133 

Amaury.    Yolanda!  .  .  .  He?  .  .  .  This      rever- 
ence as  to 
An  angel?     Speak! 

Yolanda.  Amaury 

Amaury.  O  pause  not! 

Yolanda.    Then — to  save  her  who's  dead — from 
death  and  shame, 
I  took  her  place  within  the  Paphian's  arms. 
Amaury.    O !  .  .  .  and    by    me,    driven    by    me, 

bore  this? 

[Overcome. 

Pure  as  the  rills  of  Paradise,  endured? 

Yolanda.    For   you ! — and   her   who   sleeps    for- 
given there, 

[Raptly. 

Now  while  her  spirit  weightless  overwingeth 
Night,  to  that  Throne  whose  seeing  heals  all  shame  ! 
For  her  I  did!  but  oh,  for  you,  whose  least 
Murmur  to  me  is  infinite  with   Spring, 
Whose  smile  is  light,  filling  the  air  with  dawn, 
Whose  touch,  wafture  of  immortality 


134  YOLANDA   OF   CYPRUS 

Unto  my  weariness;  and  whose  eyes,  now, 
Are  as  the  beams  God  Hfted  first,  they  tell  us, 
Over  the  uncreated. 

In  the  far  singing  mother-dawn  of  the  world ! — 
Come  with  me  then,  but  tearless,  to  her  side. 

IThey  go  to  the  bier  and  stand  as  in  a 
dream.  A  pause;  then  her  lips  move, 
last,  as  if  inspired. 

While  there  is  sin  to  sway  the  soul  and  sink  it. 
Pity  should  be  as  strong  as  love  or  death ! 

[With  a  cry  of  joy  he  enfolds  her,  and 
they  kneel,  wrapped  about  with  the 
clear  moon. 


THE   END 


I 


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